


Laced With Lust

by sinlesscurls



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:45:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinlesscurls/pseuds/sinlesscurls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If it were up to Louis, he'd blame all of his problems on Harry, his best friend of nearly eleven years. He'd blame him for his doubt in God, his jealous nature, but most of all he'd blame Harry for his own sexuality. Because Harry makes it hard for Louis to pretend that there's not an attraction. And that's what he's trying to do. Blame it all on Harry. </p><p> </p><p>OR, a fic where Louis and Harry are sad sad people and refuse to tell each other how they feel, because they're not gay. (They're really gay).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface // Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rain is colder than anything Louis has ever felt, but he can't find himself any comfort until Harry comes around.

It all started at a pond. A pond that only Louis thought he knew about. Even though the pond had been there much longer than he had been. He thought about how the pond got there or who made it. Sometimes he thought about who else considered it their own pond.

His questions were kind of answered one day in the middle of June. It was a miserable day, he thought. It was raining extremely hard and Louis could barely see the trees beside him. But he insisted that there were monsters under his bed and six-year-old Louis just couldn’t calm down enough to listen to his parents, so he ran out. He ran out of his house as fast as he could because he didn’t want the monsters to catch up with him.

He was always at the pond so his parents didn’t worry that much, except for the fact that it was raining and they didn’t want him to get lost. Louis didn’t get lost that day. Perhaps Louis was found. Because maybe the voice he heard that day wasn’t as threatening or raw as it was now.

Louis could remember hearing the crunches of the leaves and sticks behind him. At first he got scared because what if the monsters had followed him to his happy place? But the clouds were still pouring rain and he thought maybe this wasn’t such a happy place. After all, his vision was blurry, he was alone and the pond was too far away from his warm bed. And Louis really liked his warm bed. So when he heard a voice coming from behind the trees, he got a little worried.

“Hello?” he called out. He hoped that no one would reply. Because at least then he would know it was a monster. Obviously monsters couldn’t talk.

Yet, Louis couldn’t ignore the voice coming from another boy, probably about the same age. “Who are you?” the other boy asked as he got closer.

“I’m Louis and this is my pond,” he spoke. He could hear the other boy laugh, but he didn’t really know what was so funny.

“I’m Harry and this used to be my pond, but I don’t mind sharing if you don’t,” Louis hated sharing. This pond was supposed to be his happy place. The last thing he wanted was to share his pond with some brunette boy with flattened hair (from the rain, probably).

He wanted to tell Harry that he did mind sharing, but he was still scared the monsters were coming and it was still raining and he was still too far from home. So instead of telling him to go away, Louis scooted over and invited Harry to sit next to him. “Why are you here?” Louis had asked.

“My parents were fighting and my sister ran out. I thought she might be here,” Harry asked Louis if he had seen a girl who looked a lot like him, fifteen years old and had dark hair. Louis told him no, he hadn’t and then the all-too-curious boy asked him why Louis was sitting at the pond in the rain.

“There are monsters under my bed,” even with the loud rain and the mumbled thunder, Louis could still hear a small laugh escape Harry’s lips. And once again, Louis didn’t understand why he was laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Harry scooted closer to him. Harry hoped it would cause him to get at least a tiny bit warm. The rain was far too cold for any heat to help Louis out. “The monsters aren’t under your bed, they’re in your head. That’s what my sister, Gemma, always tells me.”

Louis thought that was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. Why would there be monsters in his head? They can’t survive up there, he thought. At least under his bed they could feed on Doritos crumbs or something. “I don’t think so, Harry.”

Harry shrugged. “Haven’t you ever thought about it? The idea that the monsters follow you. They’re never just under your bed, Louis.”

He tried to ignore the thought. Louis hated monsters and the last thing he wanted to think of was them taking over his brain. He can’t run from the things he’s made of. He still thought the idea was stupid. But here he was, sitting in the rain and he started to think maybe the monsters had followed him anyways.

“And you’re not scared of monsters?”

“Absolutely not,” Harry answered with another laugh. Harry was so stupid, Louis thought. Louis wanted him to stop laughing. He was scared and Harry was stupid. And maybe monsters were real.

“How are you not scared of monsters? Not even the ones in your head?”

“I’m not scared of monsters because I am one.”

Louis laughed this time. “You’re no monster Harry, you seem pretty nice to me.”

“That’s what they all say.”

Louis thought he was scared, but it seemed with Harry by his side, the rain didn’t seem so suffocating. The trees were swaying dangerously hard and Louis knew his parents were probably worried about him. He stood up, dusting off his pants. Not that it really helped.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. I’ve got to get back home. Nice meeting you, Harry. Hope to see you some other time,” Louis had turned around, giving Harry a small smile.

“Yeah. You too.”

“Oh, and Harry?”

Harry turned his head up to Louis, knees still drawn into his chest and flushed cheeks from the chilling temperature.

“Good luck on finding your sister, but it’s getting a bit cold out here. And if you really want to find her, I don’t think you should bring up anymore monster talk. You might scare her.”

Harry just nodded.

Louis walked home alone. Cold. With monsters in his head, more than likely.

 

***

Louis would meet Harry back at that pond everyday. He’d ask about his sister and monsters and Louis was so, so interested. After the first night at the pond with Harry, Louis had gone home and asked his mom. Asked her if she thought there was such a thing as monsters in your head. She looked worried. She nodded anyways. She told him that sometimes you’re not scared of anything else, but yourself. Louis wondered if Gemma thought so too.

Harry found the conversations boring and even asked if they could talk about something else. Like music or something. Louis agreed because, well, he liked Harry. He really did. He’d sit there and listen to Harry talk about guitars and drums for hours and hours on end because he loved his voice and Harry loved the way Louis listened. He didn't have anyone that would listen at home.

So when Louis asked if Harry wanted to come home with him and meet his parents, Harry found the invitation thrilling. Louis told Harry that he only had small cars to play with and he said that was okay. Because he liked Louis’ company, even though he wasn't supposed to. Harry didn’t get close to people.

Harry told Louis not to tell any of Harry's friends about this. Because they might get jealous. Louis laughed it off, because he didn't really know any of Harry's friends nor his family. Which was kind of sad, because he wanted Harry to meet his parents and Harry hadn't said the same.

By now Louis and Harry were closer than anyone else around. They told each other everything because they trusted each other. Louis had told him that embarrassing story of that one time he tripped and peed himself in front of the girl he liked. Harry laughed for days just from that one story. Louis might have been upset about Harry laughing at him, if it weren't for his beautiful smile and bright green eyes.

Louis told Harry he was cute. It wasn’t something he should have said probably, because boys didn’t say that to other boys. It confused Louis because he didn’t regret it. He thought Harry was cute and he thought it was wrong. It felt right, though. Harry had just rolled his eyes and said thanks, he didn't get that a lot. Louis asked him "Why not?" and he just shrugged.

"I 'dunno just don't get compliments that much I guess," Louis insisted that maybe that was the new stupidest thing he’s ever heard, even stupider than him being a monster.

Harry stood shyly behind Louis as he rang the doorbell to his own house. Louis liked to listen to the tune all the way through, simply because he thought it was catchy. Before his parents could say anything Louis walked in, holding onto Harry's jacket. "This is my friend Harry and we're going to play in my room.”

His parents didn't ask questions. They should have, probably. But the kids were barely over the age of seven now and they were still innocent.

It seemed as if Louis was more nervous to have Harry over than Harry was to be there. How could he entertain him? What did Harry even play with? Did Harry even like cars?

The honest answer was, no, no Harry did not like cars. But Harry liked being there with Louis and so he'd lay on Louis’ bed and listen to him ramble on and on about things. Most of the time Louis listened to him. Maybe, he thought, he ought to listen to Louis.

So he laid there for what felt like hours. It was only fifteen minutes, but to seven-year-old Harry, it felt like a lifetime. He had tuned Louis out until Harry noticed he had asked him a question. "What's you're favorite toy to play with?" Louis had turned his attention to the curly-headed boy. Harry took this into consideration. He didn't have many toys. He really didn't need any.

"Emotions," Harry finally answered.

"Emotions?" Louis questioned, because he didn't really think you could play with emotions. Once again, he thought what Harry had said was stupid. Even though he liked Harry, he couldn't help but think he was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Most boys were, he thought, so so stupid.

"Think about it," Harry started, "if I were to tell you I thought you are attractive you'd be happy," he was right because Louis started to blush and almost smiled when Harry spoke again, "but if I were to say I thought you were ugly, I'm sure that would upset you." He was right. He was so right because any facial expression Louis had was now gone. Boys shouldn’t talk about these types of things, anyways.

"I don't think playing with emotions is all that fun," it was stupid.

"Of course you don't because now, you're wondering if I think you're cute or not," it was silent for a couple of seconds, "emotions are fun to play with when they're not your own."

Louis was confused. He was confused because who played with emotions for fun? he was confused and he thought maybe that was the worst emotion of all. Confused left him wondering if he was attractive or ugly.

"So?" he questioned.

"So what?"

"So, do you think I'm good-looking or not?" Louis’ voice was soft and barely audible.

"Well Louis, if I answer you, the game stops being fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to start off my story with a bit of background information, but didn't feel like classifying it as a prologue. The first too chapters will continue with this information and will be MUCH shorter than the rest of my chapters. 
> 
> Each regular chapter will have a little bit over 10k words.
> 
> Thanks for reading. xx


	2. Preface // Part II

The trees near the pond were thick with the green leaves of spring. Louis and Harry found the spring time much more enjoyable because for the first time ever, they decided to go swimming in the old pond.

When Louis thought about his (their) pond, he no longer thought about monsters or the rain. He thought about Harry. Harry and Louis had been friends through more summer, winter and fall seasons and they both agreed that spring was their favorite. Spring only brought more happiness. Harry made Louis happy, even in cold water and with fish squirming by his feet.

He remembers when Harry first jumped into the pond. He thought he was insane, because what thirteen-year-old wants to swim in water that felt like ice cubes? But Louis couldn’t help but feel Harry’s absence on land. So he jumped in too (after many more pleadings from Harry). Louis was never good under peer pressure.

“Harry, something is biting my foot!” Louis had once screamed after feeling nibbles at his toes. He became paranoid that whatever was biting him was going to hurt him. Harry noticed that Louis kept inching closer, attempting to get away from the fish.

“Come here,” Harry eventually said, as he weightlessly picked Louis up and placed Louis back on the land. Harry was a good friend and much stronger than Louis. Harry crawled out after him.

Mostly, because he was slightly scared of the fish too. Harry rested his hand on a tree, attempting to catch his breath. He felt an indention in the bark and furrowed his eyebrows, almost in curiosity. Harry noticed the large letters carved into the trees.

“Harry?” Louis called.

“Come look at this Lou,” Louis pulled himself off of the ground in soaking wet clothes, to go and join Harry by the tree. Part of the bark had been carved out, into what looked like initials. Harry’s long fingers traced over the nonexistent bark.

“CW + GS,” The lettering was neat and careful.

“Who do you think did it?”

“I don’t know,” Louis chuckled slightly. “But I’m sure they love each other.”

“And why do you think that?” Harry asked as he picked up Louis’ hand and placed his fingers on the bark.

“These letters are everlasting,” Harry wanted that. He deserved it, at least. If Harry carved letters into a tree then they’d be there forever. Stationary. He didn’t have many things that were stationary.

His parents always fought, his sister was always missing, but Harry was always there. Forever and always, just kind of there. Louis knew that. He knew that Harry put up with a lot. He knew his sister would run away sometimes.

Gemma would leave Harry behind. Louis also knew that his parents would scream and yell. They never cared if Harry heard, they would tell Harry that they were sorry, but they weren’t. They never were. So Louis stayed. He stayed by the tree next to the pond for what felt like, well, forever.

The two thirteen-year-olds talked about who they thought ‘CW’ and ‘GS’ were. Louis wondered if the two people were still together. Still in love. Still everlasting. Harry said no. No, these people were not together. Nothing ever lasted that long. Louis must have been insane to think such a thing. That is how things always were. Harry was stupid and Louis was insane.

 _Harry was stupid_ , Louis thought. _Stupid enough to not believe in evermore_.

“Maybe these people are married now,” Louis said, swaying back and forth, “maybe they have a family.”

“Or dead,” Harry stated. “There is always that possibility.”

“Dead and married,” he interjected.

“Or just dead. Dead and lonely,” Harry shrugged, but the thought shook Louis to the bone. To die alone. What a terrible way to go.

He spent too much time contemplating about being alone. Dying was scary enough, but to die alone seemed frightening. No one deserved that. Harry noticed the thought upset him.

“We all die, Louis. Every single one of us.”

“We shouldn’t have to die alone.”

“Let’s make a promise,” Harry started. Louis’ heart rate was rising and he didn’t know if he was scared of confused. “I promise to you, that I will be here. Until death takes us away.”

Louis wanted to cry, wanted tears to fall down his face, just to prove that this was real. He loved Harry. Oh, how Louis loved Harry. Harry messed with his emotions and made him feel lonely and smothered all at the same time.

So Louis promised. He promised he would be there too.

Because Harry deserved forever.

 

 

***

 

 

It seemed like Harry and Louis couldn’t have gotten any closer. Harry spent almost everyday at Louis’ house. Except for Fridays. On Fridays, they’d go over to Harry’s instead.

By the time they were fifteen, they were inseparable. Which was weird, because Harry’s popularity was growing and he had plenty of people dying to be his best friend, but he would always choose Louis.

Most of the girls their age had some type of interest in Harry and Louis understood why. Louis couldn’t help but notice how green Harry’s eyes were and how deep his dimples could get. He didn’t know if he should be paying attention to those type of things, but he was. He was so confused on what was okay and what wasn’t.

Harry had a couple of girlfriends every once in a while, way more than him. Louis couldn’t bring himself to care about how many girls he had. Louis really never spoke out of turn and only had about three other close friends, besides Harry.

Sometimes Harry brought unwanted attention to Louis. Eyes were always on Harry, meaning when he was around, eyes were always on him too.

One rainy day in April, Louis sat by the rocks that overlooked the pond and waited on Harry. He was covered in water from head to toe, but continued to wait for Harry. After all, he’d always wait for Harry.

He was alone in the rain for quite sometime when he finally heard Harry’s footsteps from afar. They were quick paced and she could ever hear him panting. “Louis? Lou? Where are you?! Fuck! I can’t lose you too!”

“Harry? Harry! I’m here, by the rocks!” He called out.

“Louis!” For some reason, he found joy in Harry calling his name. He wasn’t calling after anyone else, just his Louis.Harry was out of breath and the rain wasn’t helping. Plus he had asthma, which only worried Louis more. “We can’t find Gemma.”

It was normal, for Gemma to run away, but she wasn’t fifteen anymore. Gemma was a proper adult, even had her own home. She lived in a house just down the road from her former home. Regardless of how small the Styles family was.

“What? What do you mean you can’t find her?”

“I mean we can’t find her! We’ve called her cell phone, we went to her house. We usually give her a day, in case she’s at someone else’s house or something is wrong with her phone, but this is different. We really can’t find her this time.”

Louis’ heart beat was loud. Seeing Harry with such panic in his eyes, caused Louis to break. Louis’ emotions were tied too close to Harry’s. Louis could only imagine what was going through Harry’s parents’ minds right now. Harry might have been crying, Louis couldn’t tell because all of the tears were blending with the raindrops.

Instead of asking anymore questions, Louis just opened his arms and Harry stepped into them with ease. Fifteen-year-old boys shouldn’t do this. Louis repeated that everyday and changed the age slightly after every birthday.

Things were different with Harry and Louis. It scared Louis to death, because all he did was want to bury his head into Harry’s hair and find some type of comfort. He rubbed along Harry’s back and let Harry take his time as he sobbed into Louis’ chest. Louis might have been crying, but that’s normal.

The rain has that effect on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallelujah! My crappy background chapters are over and now we get to read the good stuff.. Shortest chapter I'm ever going to write, but it was necessary for me to continue with some background information. 
> 
> From now on, all chapters will be a little over 10k words.


	3. The Kiss // Present Day- I

Gemma’s body was found in the pond, a week later. It was ruled as suicide.

Louis remembers getting the news like it was yesterday. He remembers both of his parents, knocking on his door with a soft thud. He remembers the way they looked at him hollow eyes and sad smiles.

How do you explain that someone hated their life enough to kill themselves? Especially Gemma. Someone so beautiful. It was unfair. Unjust. And it pained Louis. 

It pained Louis as much as it pained Harry. He could connect with Gemma, even if her heart had stopped and her blood run cold. He knew what it was like to be sad. He knew it well enough to see himself in Gemma’s position.

“You’ve got to be there for Harry, he’s going to be so lost Louis,” he knew that. It was the first thing that had popped into his mind when he received the news. Louis and his parents laid on his bed together, staring at the ceiling. Louis’ little sisters were at his grandparents. He wondered about Harry. He wondered if Harry’s parents would lay on the bed with Harry and let him cry. Let him talk.

Louis didn’t think they would.

“How’d she do it, ma?”

“It’s not important Lou,” his dad spoke up. Technically his step dad. Technicality didn’t matter after fifteen years.

It was important. It was important enough to ask about it. And it pissed Louis off that he felt the need to plead for the information, as if he couldn’t get it himself. He didn’t want to learn this on his own, he didn’t need the images of Gemma in his head. He needed answers more than he needed happiness.

“It is important and _don’t_ tell me otherwise,” His voice was loud enough to carry to any other room in the house. It didn’t matter. “That’s my best friend’s sister and she’s dead. I need to know,” His parents stayed quiet, regardless of Louis’ loud tone.

They were calm and just kept comforting him. Louis shouldn’t be the one being comforted. That needed to be Harry. Right now Louis didn’t know if anyone was there for Harry, but there wasn’t much he could do. His parents told him that no one was allowed to see the family until tomorrow.

“Bricks, sand bags,” his mother, Johanna, said eventually. “She tied heavy bags and solid bricks to her body. Drowned.” Louis took in a shaky breath.

Gemma’s body had been in their pond, for at least a week. Louis thought of all of the time Harry and him had been there in the past seven days.

Holding hands, telling jokes. Things Harry and Louis would panic about if anyone had ever found out. He could imagine Harry’s palm placed in his. He remembers the way Harry had seemed hesitant to grab it, almost secretive. He had grabbed Louis’ hand and the temperature seemed to rise. The two boys sat on the rocks in front of the pond. Louis’ hand wrapped in Harry’s.

It wasn’t like that anymore. What if they would have found her? What if Harry had to live with that image for the rest of his life? Louis wasn’t thankful for much at the moment. _How could he be?_ Louis thanked whatever Gods were above him anyways. They weren’t the ones to find her.

“The monsters got to her,” he said, and for once tears were threatening to come out. He hadn’t talked about monsters in a long time, because he felt dumb. He felt stupid when he was talking about monsters, because what teenage boy was still scared of made up creatures?

Talking about Gemma made him realize that he wasn’t all too stupid after all.

Louis realized he was in love with Harry, the first time Louis saw him after the incident.

His parents and him stood on the Styles’ porch and knocked quietly. Someone let them in, Louis couldn’t place a finger on who it was. His whole brain was spinning and regardless of the atmosphere, he could hear a few laughs and saw a few smiles. He didn’t care what he saw anymore, unless it was Harry.

The Tomlinson’s and the Styles’ families had grown close lately. Louis’ parents had never met Gemma, though. She had never been around. The families would spend countless dinners with each other and many conversations between the two boys. They loved Harry and Louis, regardless. Harry told Louis one night that the only time his parents ever seemed happy were when they were with Louis’ parents. The thought warmed Louis’ heart because it was the same way with him and Harry.

A pair of green eyes landed on Louis’ blue ones, snapping him back into reality.

It didn’t take five seconds for Harry to run for him with open arms. There was a good chance that the boys had caused a scene, as everyone else got a tiny bit quieter. Louis wanted them to keep talking, take their eyes away.

He didn’t need anyone looking at him except for his best friend.

He could feel the world spinning in a blur of black clothing and brown curls. And he had been waiting for this. It was hard to come to the realization that whatever this was, was happening in of everyone. They were fifteen. No one cared at the time. Harry held Louis’ wrist, as he dragged him along. They both nodded towards Louis’ parents in departure and his parents just smiled softly.

“This is the only place we can get some privacy,” Harry said as he led Louis into his room.

The first time Louis heard Harry’s voice, he wanted to cry. His voice sounded faint and Louis had never heard it like that before. It was dainty and weak and the complete opposite of Harry. Louis hated it. He hated it all. He could only pay attention to the crowd of people in the living room and the touch of Harry’s hand to his own skin.

“God, it’s so good to finally see you,” Harry had stated, the second his bedroom door had shut. Louis held Harry to his chest, getting on his tiptoes. They stayed like that for a while. Just the two of them, Harry in Louis’ chest. Louis had yet to say anything to Harry yet.

He had no idea what he should even say. _Sorry? Should he say sorry?_ “You can talk if you want,” he muffled out, into Harry’s hair.

“I’ve talked too much and not enough already. I just want you. Here, with me,” the words sent Louis’ heart into a spiral of emotions. Louis noticed that Harry had locked the door and was dragging Louis over to his bed.

Louis felt tired. He felt slumped against any emotions attempting to make their way into Louis’ brain. He didn’t need the thoughts. He needed Harry. Always needed Harry. Louis and Harry hung out a lot, and nothing was ever weird between the two of them. Harry had held Louis’ hand once, maybe twice and Louis felt pangs to his chest. Harry just smiled at him. Louis had questioned his sexuality before, but being with Harry all the time made it hard to suppress.

Being gay wasn’t something that was acceptable, at least not in Louis’ life.

He had battled the same fight over and over again and he should be tired fighting, but he wasn’t. It was as if the whole topic would come up and Louis had the chance to shut it down. To stop it all.

He never did.

As Harry got older, his baby fat went away and he started to grow some type of muscle on every inch of his body. Louis had always understood the lust from girls that found Harry attractive. Louis couldn’t deny that lust was in his own eyes too.

Harry and Louis laid above the covers, wound together with limbs upon limbs. It was raining again and the boys could hear the soft patter of the drops on Harry’s window. Louis could feel Harry breathing on to him and Louis just closed his eyes. Listening to Harry and the rain. “My parents haven’t fought since,” was all Harry said at first.

Louis just ran his fingers along Harry’s back, because finally, he could comfort him. “Gemma’s death,” Harry’s voice cracks. “It’s made them open their eyes a bit. I think. Maybe.” The rain and Harry’s heart were getting faster so Louis just nodded. He couldn’t talk, he didn’t trust his own voice to support him.

“Maybe so-“

“They told me they wanted to do it right this time, Lou. They told me that they were just stupid and that they were so sorry,” he started sobbing into Louis’ chest, grabbing onto Louis’ light blue t-shirt. “They always tell me they’re sorry, but I believe them this time. I believe they’re sorry. Is that stupid? Is it stupid to believe that they can love each other again?”

“No,” Louis croaked out. “I don’t think it’s stupid, Harry.” They were quiet for a couple of beats, the rain water outside was still pounding and they could still hear everyone that was in Harry’s house, silently hoping that no one could hear them. Louis looked down at Harry in his grip. He was delicate and looked like he could break. “Do you miss her?”

“Of course I miss her. I can’t imagine why she would do this. My parents keep blaming themselves and I keep thinking it’s my fault, it’s a never-ending cycle, Louis.”

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Louis played with Harry’s curls and scooted down on the bed, coming down to match Harry’s face. It was odd to see Harry at this angle. Louis was able to look straight to him with no blockades, no barriers, just flushed cheeks and deep dimples.

Green eyes all too familiar.

“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”

The boys were motionless for a long time. Just staring at each other, green meeting blue every time. Every single time.

Harry hesitantly raised a hand up to Louis’ cheek. Louis feels like maybe he had stopped breathing, but the thought wasn’t fit for the situation. Harry’s touch against Louis had sent him into a shock that was too bold to ever put into words. It had turned his slight frown into a pressed line and he swears he could feel his own heartbeat outside of his body. Maybe it was Harry’s. Their heartbeats aligned. “I don’t want to go to the pond anymore,” Harry whispered softly.

Louis just nodded. He couldn’t say much anyways. “Okay,” Harry’s hand is still on Louis’ cheek and Louis thinks he might see Harry inching his own face closer to Louis’.

This has never happened between the boys. They never talked about how Louis didn’t have girlfriends, or how he stared at Harry a bit too long sometimes. Louis didn’t figure that maybe Harry did the same.

And suddenly the rain was too loud and the room was suffocating.

And Louis’ lips were pressed to Harry's.

“I don’t like the pond anymore,” Harry spoke against Louis’ lips. Louis still couldn’t register what was happening or what this meant, but Harry was secure. Positive of his own actions. “Need to find a new,” they boys were properly snogging now. “Need to find a new happy place.”

“A new happy place,” Louis had mumbled back, but they kept kissing.

Felt so right and so wrong. “We can do that.”

They could definitely do that, you know. Find a new happy place.

 

***

 

They didn’t talk about it. But damn if Louis didn’t think about it all of the time. He wondered if Harry thought about it too.

They kissed for a really long time that day, isolated in Harry’s room. All of Harry’s family had been just behind a locked door, Louis’ parents too. But here were two best friends, kissing, making out with one another.

Was that normal? No. No, it wasn’t normal for Louis to kiss his best friend and it sure as hell was not normal for him to want to do it again.

But he did, the pressure of Harry’s lips against his own was something he could never wash away. He couldn’t forget what if felt like to have Harry like that. To have Harry in all of his entirety. Louis probably didn’t deserve to have him like that, but he wouldn’t take it back. He tried to regret. Louis tried telling himself how gross it seemed, how weird it was to kiss Harry.

He might have told himself that plenty of times, but he never believed it. There was no way he could ever find Harry’s lips gross, wet and plump maybe, but never gross.

It took Harry’s mind off of Gemma for just long enough. Eventually he knew he’d have to get up and go back to his family. Go back to the sadness. Go back to his family in black and the weather reflecting the occasion.

Yet, just then all he wanted was Louis. The fact that their brains were on the same tracks was frightening. It scared both of them beyond belief. Harry was so much better at hiding whatever it was that he was keeping to himself. Harry had always been good at hiding.

Harry changed a lot after that. He was permanently sarcastic, walked with a stiff frame and never let anyone in. He had his fair share of girls, his fair share of friends and he always had Louis. Always. Sometimes Harry wouldn’t talk to anyone at school, he’d just walk around with books in his hand and avoid anyone else’s gaze.

He looked so strong, walking like that. Everyone else’s eyes were on him because he was so attractive. Beautiful, even. His structure was long and lean. If you were to look up intimidating in the dictionary, a picture of Harry would be there. He’d walk up to Louis in the cafeteria, sometimes, while Louis was with all of his other friends and just look at him. Sometimes he’d talk to him, sometimes not.

“You’re coming over today, right?” He’d asked one Friday during lunch.

All eyes were on the two of them, because wherever Harry was, people were watching.

Louis looked behind him at everyone else’s wondering eyes and he gulped slowly. It seemed as if everyone had turned their whole bodies around, just to see the way Harry’s back muscles moved, as he leaned over the lunch table. Louis didn’t like the attention. Especially not when it was with Harry. “Y-Yeah, I was planning on it,” he finally answered as he took another sip of his water.

The rest of his friends looked up at Harry with awe in their eyes. Harry was practically an angel compared to everyone else.

Louis and Harry never really talked during school. They had their own groups of friends and Louis didn’t really approve of the people Harry hung out with. Any communication between the two boys during school hours was initiated by Harry. “Alright. Okay good, meet me at my truck after school” he’d said, before walking off in his tight jeans and navy blue shirt, his boots making a small noise at the movements.

Harry’s tone was flat and showed no emotion whatsoever. It never did, really. On special occasions Louis would get to witness Harry in a state that no one else would get to see. People envied him. All eyes were off Louis now, they watched as Harry took his seat at his regular lunch table. Everyone knew that Louis was Harry’s best friend.

When the two weren’t in school, they were always together. You could catch them getting dinner together or Louis hanging out with Harry while he worked in the garage.

They were seventeen now. Harry never really restored back to his somewhat normal self, his mood had permanently shifted into a stone-cold emotionless void.

Harry was still beautiful, even if he was empty.

Louis had stuck to his word, they never went back to the pond. Anywhere with Harry was his happy place. He didn’t know if Harry agreed.

It was sappy, really, to imagine that Louis thought of his happy place as a person. How could he compare his happiness to broad shoulders and emerald irises? At the age of sixteen, Louis had officially started to think about the idea of him being gay. It was hard.

It was hard because his boundaries between Harry and himself had thin and thick lines. He didn’t know if it was out of the ordinary for friends to act the way they did, sometimes. He didn’t even know if Harry was anything but straight. Louis didn’t know if Harry was anything at all.

The idea of having a crush on Harry was evident. Obvious, probably. Harry might have known. It wasn’t hard to notice the way Louis glanced at him too often than not. Harry didn’t object or attempt to get Louis to change his mind. Not that they talked about it. Never. They never talked about it. Harry sometimes would just hold Louis when he was crying and kiss his forehead every once in a while. It didn’t come in the middle of their friendship and that’s all that mattered. They didn’t kiss after that one time at Harry’s house. It was okay.

Friends didn’t do that anyways.

But a year later on that exact day, Harry answered his phone at two in the morning to a crying Louis. “Harry, I think I’m gay,” Louis had said, Harry couldn’t see him, but Louis had his knees drawn into his chest. Tears covered over his face and he was lost. So, so lost.

“Yeah?” Harry had asked, waking up fully at the conversation. They didn’t talk about Louis’ sexuality all that much, mostly because Harry was the only one that knew. Louis never even told him. He just knew.

“Yeah, but I- I don’t know what to do. I can’t change and I’m trying so hard. I’m so tired. It’s haunting me,” _the monsters are back, Harry,_ is what he wanted to say. He didn’t.

“Well I’m behind you no matter what, you know that right?” He asked. Harry’s voice was so much raspier over the phone, not to mention the fact that Louis had also woken him up. A tiny bit of softness was relaid over to his language.

“I know, yeah. Sorry to call you like this,” Louis sniffled and Harry could hear him. Harry just sighed and rolled over, staring at the ceiling with his phone still pressed to his ear.

“Please stop crying Lou. For me? Stop crying for me?” God, Louis wanted to cry more. Because Harry cared. Harry cared so so much. Even if he didn’t show it the way Louis had always hoped.

“I’ll stop crying. Yeah, go back to sleep Harry. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. It’s alright. Anything for you,” He should have regretted the words that left his mouth. He didn’t. Instead, Harry looked out the window. Louis was just down the road, he could run and be there in point five seconds. He could hold Louis and wipe his eyes and tell him it was all going to be okay.

“I’ll let you get back to sleep. G’night H, thank you,” Louis could hear Harry’s smile in his tone once he had said you're welcome back to Louis.

Neither of the hung up. They just kept breathing into the line and eventually Harry put his phone on speaker phone and placed it beside him in bed.

They fell asleep listening to one another’s even breaths that night.

Intimacy followed Louis around the next day, strings attached to the way Harry never hung up the phone. His parents would yell at him for his phone bill. He didn’t care.

But here Louis was now, standing against Harry’s truck, looking down at his own feet. People noticed Louis leaning against the passenger door and it wasn’t hard to tell that they all were jealous of him. They also talked, too. They didn’t know anything about Louis. The only think they knew was his name and the fact that he hung out with Harry.

Nothing more.

He kicked rocks across the pavement. Many people liked to talk about Louis and all of their speculations. They liked to talk about how they thought Louis had a crush on Harry ( _which, okay, but they didn’t even know he was gay. Did they?_ ) or how Louis used Harry for his money. It didn’t matter what they said. If Harry heard anyone mention Louis’ name in a conversation, he’d whip his head around and demand they keep Louis’ name out of their mouths.

Harry was proper badass.

Harry was also protective of Louis. He didn’t like when someone stared at him for too long or if he could see smart remarks ready to escape for someone’s lips. No one messed with Louis. The thought of Harry’s protection was something Louis grew fond of, because it was the slightest bit of something.

Louis heard the sound of boots hitting the concrete and it snapped him back to his surroundings. There was Harry, in all of his glory. With his army green headscarf and skin-tight jeans. Flawless. It was painful for Louis.

“Hey Louis," Harry approached the truck, keys in hand. He unlocked the doors with a jiggle of his keys and finally Louis could get in. Louis knew people were still staring, but it felt safer in Harry’s car.

“Good afternoon,” Louis asked with a small smile, as he threw his bags into the back. It was a system that they both had learned so well.

“I’m so tired,” was the first thing to escape Harry’s lips once they both had settled in, grabbing for their buckles.

The crowd in the parking lot was large. Harry had to wait in his parking spot before he was even able to move. Louis could still see eyes coming from everywhere. Harry didn’t even seemed phased by the fact that everybody was staring at him. Instead, he sat with his elbow on the window and his head on his hand, sighing in frustration at traffic.

It made Louis mad, the way everyone stared at Harry. As if his looks were used for their own guilty pleasures. 

However, that's a lot what Harry looked like. A guilty pleasure.

“How does it not bother you?” Louis asked, adjusting the head rest to fit his height.

“Hmm?” Harry raised his head, looking over to Louis. He did look tired. Louis wondered how much sleep Harry had gotten the night before. If any at all.

“Everyone is looking. How do is not bother you?” Louis could see Harry move his tongue around in his mouth in concentration, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you like used to it or what?”

Harry just chuckled dryly. He always did that. Louis hated it. He hated the way Harry had never shown any type of feeling behind his actions. “I don’t let it bother me, if people want to look. Let them look. None of them matter to me anyways.”

“Harry,” Louis warned, voice stern. Harry laughed again, throwing his arms up.

“I’m just saying. Half of them have never even spoken to me,” Harry was frightening. Even Louis knew that. He knew why they were probably afraid to talk to him. “Eyes don’t bother me.” Louis nodded in understanding and looked away from Harry and back to all of the cars lined up.

Still, he could see groups of girls and some guys with eyes set on Harry. On Louis sometimes, too. Harry’s truck was old and the windows weren’t exactly tinted. They had a clear view of whatever they wanted to see. And, yeah, eyes might not bother Harry, but people talked. Words might hurt a bit more. Harry’s truck was one of Louis’ favorite things though. He liked the rust by the handles and the faded blue paint on the sides.

He wouldn’t complain about Harry’s truck.

Harry cleared his throat. “Why? Does it bother you, you know, being seen with me?” the subject seemed softer than intended, but Harry never cared about his words. So Louis was probably over analyzing it. “Because I could get people to stop staring-“

“No, H.”

“If it bothers you, I can do something about it,” this was the last thing Louis had even thought. The idea of not liking being with Harry.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s nothing. I was just wondering if you ever got used to it. That’s all,” Louis insisted. Harry looked over at him, not completely at ease. He just nodded and then started driving.

Louis could never imagine being anywhere else than with Harry. And he wouldn’t want eyes on him for any other reason. The town they lived in was small. Small enough to hear everyone at once. Hear how much they talked, what they talked about. It was odd that Louis felt like no one ever really heard him, but he could hear everyone else. He noticed he didn’t speak as much when he wasn’t with his friends. He felt comfortable around Harry and Stan and Niall. That was it, really.

Louis practically screamed push-over. He had nice clothes and his family had a bit of money as well. He only spoke once spoken to and he found a lot of pride in his appearance. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough when he looked over at Harry driving, to find his biceps pushing out of his short sleeves shirt. He saw the way Harry’s back muscles contracted when he moved his arms. Louis and Harry were polar opposites and the same person, all at once.

“I actually wanted to see your family,” Harry gulped loud enough for Louis to hear. “I mean, if that’s alright with you. I just haven’t seen them lately because I’ve been so busy and-“

“You don’t need to have my permission to see my family, Harry,” Louis spoke with an ease from his voice, wondering what the motive behind Harry’s visit was.

“I just thought,” Harry paused, bringing his finger up to his lips. Louis was drowning at the sight. “That it would be strange, to see them without asking you.”

“You know how much they love you,” _I love you too._ “You can see them whenever you want to." He simply nodded in response. He liked being with Louis’ family. He liked the smell of the little kids running around and the way everything was covered in pink from all of the girls.

Harry liked being with Louis’ sisters, because he didn’t get to go home to his own.

It almost annoyed Louis how well Harry got along with his family. Not that it was unexpected, everyone that knew the real Harry loved him. Louis couldn’t figure out why, but Harry let his guard down for Louis’ family. Not that he minded, fuck, Louis loved seeing Harry with his family. Louis didn’t know if it was a physical attraction or a mental attraction.

Both. Definitely both.

Harry had already felt like family for a long while. He was there for the birth of Fizzy and the twins, he even gave Lottie her nickname. As for Johannah, well she loved Harry like one of her own. And Louis couldn’t help all of the fond grins he released once Harry was playing with Louis’ sisters.

Lottie had this thing for Harry. Part of her was joking and part of her really thought Harry was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Louis understood that. Louis understood the way Lottie would look at him as if he had hung the stars.

She’d lay in Louis’ bed and insist she wasn’t actually in love with him. It would never happen anyways. She was too young and Harry was too respectful. Lottie thought he was beautiful.

His family didn’t know.

They didn’t know that Louis was gay and they certainly didn’t know about his thoughts towards Harry. Louis was too confused with himself to even imagine coming out to his own family. The concept seemed foreign.

Louis’ family also didn’t know that Harry was usually boxed away. They were unaware how much it meant for Harry to even laugh or for Harry to show his dimples in front of them, considering he never did it for anyone else. The sight was the prettiest thing Louis had ever seen.

That Friday night, Harry had stayed until just before supper before he insisted he needed to get back to see his mom. His eyes made him seem guilty and it worried Louis. Jo insisted he stay for dinner and Harry just chuckled and said he would promise to be back soon.

“I’ll see you Sunday, yeah?” Louis asked, as he stood against the doorframe, watching Harry load himself into his truck. Harry furrowed his eyebrows in questioning, clearly confused. “Church?” Louis reminded him.

“Yeah, yes, of course,” Harry said as he nodded, coming back to his senses. Slowly Harry was going back to the emotionless boy that Louis hated.

“Alright.”

“See you then, babe.” The pet name was enough to send Louis into his room with giddy thoughts.

 

***

 

Ever since Louis was younger, he remembers being forced up at early hours to attend church. Of course, at the time it was easy for Louis. Now, not so much.

His family’s strong religious beliefs only feared Louis more about what would happen if he came out. He worried about what the church would think. He shouldn’t have to worry about that. Church was a judgement free zone. Right?

It was something that Louis pushed to the back of his brain and instead settled for only a few quick thoughts during service. He would look at his family and all of the people that attended the same church. Sometimes he’d make guesses with himself over who would freak out. Who would want him out of the church and who would want him to stay.

Des. Des Styles would want him out.

Des’ homophobia wasn’t a secret. It displeased Harry’s mom to an extent. She never said anything about it. It was just a few snotty remarks where they seemed to fit. He mutter them under his breath, Louis would tense and Harry would be there to rub his shoulder in an act of comfort. It was enough.

Being in charge of getting Daisy and Phoebe ready was already a task in itself. But then he had to find nice enough clothes for himself in a closet that was packed with skeletons. Ha.

At least it was pretty outside, even if it was spring. Harry hated spring as much as Louis did. They both made a dual agreement to hate spring. They used to love it. They used to love the beautiful colors of the flowers and the rain. The really used to love the rain. Time changes people.

“Louis?” his mother yelled from downstairs.

“Coming, coming, coming,” he answered, shuffling down the stairs in his dress suit and proper attire.

It wasn’t until he was downstairs that he noticed Harry and his parents were there too. And it seemed like Harry was always there, didn’t it? Louis couldn’t get a moment to himself without seeing Harry. And when he did, his brain would find a way to relate everything back to the boy made of chocolate curls.

It was annoying.

Anne was just as beautiful as Harry was. Time never aged her. As for Des, well, Louis hated him. Louis hated the way Des treated Harry. Louis remembers Des muttering for Harry to be a man when they were younger. Insisting that Harry wasn’t broad enough or tough enough.

Harry was a man. Des was not.

Harry’s hair was down for church, without a headscarf in his hair. Louis loved Harry’s hair, no matter how he styled it. And Louis tore his eyes away from Harry because he knew Harry was looking at him. “Good morning,” Louis breathed out with a smile, mostly directed towards Anne. If he could avoid staring at Harry, well that’s exactly what he’d do.

“You look so nice. Goodness Louis, you certainly are stunning,” Anne replied as she pulled him into a hug. Louis hoped the blush wasn’t noticeable. Anne smelled like Chanel No. 5. Louis wanted to bathe in it. Louis didn’t ever have anyone to call him stunning, unless it was from his mom or his sisters. Hearing it from Anne meant more to him than it should have.

“Is it okay if you ride with Harry?” Anne asked as she let go of Louis. And it really wasn’t even a question because Louis was being shoved out of the door, in front of Harry without thought.

So there they were, all ten of them climbing into three different cars and Louis had the luxury of riding with Harry. Lottie was jealous, probably. He chuckled to himself and shook his head, waiting for Harry to start the car. “What’s so funny?” Harry asked with amusement in his eyes. And.. that was different. Seeing Harry with an actual expression.

“Just thinking about how many people Lottie would kill to be where I am,” Harry laughed. A real laugh, at that. The one where his eyes sparkle and his dimples poke out. The smile where Harry tilts his head back in joy.

Louis should stop staring.

All of the trees were covered in green, healthy leaves and they were dry for once. It hadn’t rained today. Louis watched through Harry’s car window at all of the landmarks on the way to church. The old playground they used to play at, the middle school they used to go to, all of it. It was then that he realized how long Harry had been in his life.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” Harry asked. His voice was rough and the question reminded Louis of Friday when he asked Harry if the eyes ever bothered him.

“Tired of what?”

“Church,” Harry looked over at Louis for the first time, with his arm draped across the steering wheel. It was funny to Louis, seeing Harry dressed in a beautiful suit, his hair reaching his shoulders and the way Harry’s lips looked much pinker today. Harry looked timeless in his attire as they rode down the ancient roads in his old truck. Louis hoped Harry lived forever. “I feel like sometimes God doesn’t even listen to me. And I spend all of this time going to church, for what?”

Louis shifted in his seat at the question. How could he answer that? Did he get tired of going to church? Afraid of being judged? Disappointing God? Harry kept his eyes on the road, but couldn’t help but notice the way Louis squirmed at the question.

“Surely you think it too,” he spoke up, once Louis never replied. “We’ve got everything going for us. God doesn’t listen to people who have a nice life. He’s got no reason to.”

And that was that. That’s all Harry said. Louis wanted to jump out of his truck, tell Harry he was wrong. But sitting there with thoughts squirming under his skin, he just stared at Harry. He couldn’t bring himself to confirm Harry’s claims. He couldn’t bring himself deny them either.

"You and I” Harry’s voice was still and lacked emotion again.“We’ve got every reason to be mad at God, Louis.”

Louis looked over at Harry with dull eyes. Part of Louis wanted to drop the conversation, another part of him wanted to stare at Harry forever. Louis didn’t hate God. God gave him Harry.

They sat next to each other at church, the twins on each side of them. Their thighs touched while they sat. Contact with Harry during church made Louis forget about any sinless thing he had been taught.

 

 

***

 

 

It wasn’t until at school Monday that he realized what Harry had meant. Because Louis could see a girl hanging all over Harry. Playing with the collar of his shirt, running her fingers through his hair, drawing patterns with her finger over Harry’s tattoos.

Everything he had been through, came at him all at once. Louis was mad at God. Louis was mad at God for giving him Harry, but not allowing him to actually be his own. So he sat there at lunch with Stan and Niall, quiet and observing Harry from afar. Louis wondered what that girl would think if she knew that Louis had slept in that shirt that her fingers kept grabbing onto. He wondered what she would think if she knew that they had held hands, kissed in Harry’s bed.

Wondered if she knew how soft Harry’s lips were, because Louis did. Louis knew and he wondered if she did too. Harry would smirk at her, as she clutched to any place she could grab. Louis wanted to know her name.

“Louis?” Niall asked, looking at him with his eyebrows drawn together. “Louis? Snap out of it.” Niall’s voice startled him at first, but he listened.

He stopped staring at Harry and the girl that sat with him. Louis didn’t want to eat anymore. The girls hair was long and flopped with every movement. He never knew Harry to be into tall blonde girls with lips that scar. “She’s not permanent,” Niall spoke up, stabbing a fork at whatever he was eating. He looked up at Louis, shyly. As if he was stepping out of bounds. “She dates everybody. She won’t be there forever, Louis.”

And, right. No one ever stayed for Harry. Except for Louis. Louis was permanent.

Niall’s comment should have worried him. Because there was a good chance that Niall knew now. He had to have known, something, anything to realize that Louis envied that girl. And why? Wouldn’t Niall want to know why Louis hated her? Instead, Louis just nodded and looked down at the food in front of him.

Louis’ shirt was tight and his jeans shaped around his bum and it probably wasn’t the way a straight guy should dress. It was whatever.

Louis didn’t ride home with Harry that day, even though he had planned to. He had walked home with shoes that were uncomfortable and jeans that were too long for the warm spring weather. He also couldn’t ignore how heavy the clouds were the hung over him. A whole ride with Harry seemed unbearable. Especially when he could still see the traces of that girl on his skin. Louis wanted to mark Harry as his. He couldn’t. She already had.

He hated Mondays. He hated the rain. He hated God. He hated the girl he saw in the cafeteria. He hated everyone and everything. He never hated Harry.

 

***

 

Her name was Alexandra. Louis told himself he didn’t care.

Told himself that it didn’t matter that Harry had a girlfriend. Told himself it didn’t matter if she could make her his, fully, at this very moment. Louis would forget it all by the time he saw Harry again.

For the next week Louis stayed quiet. He’d opt-out of accepting a ride home from Harry and just walk home everyday.

Sometimes he’d see Harry in school, structure upright, muscles bursting out of his shirt. No girl clung to him, which was probably a good sign. Harry was frustrated with Louis’ absence. He wanted to know why Louis was walking home and why Louis avoided eye contact with anyone besides his other two friends. He hoped nothing was wrong with him, but never actually asked Louis himself.

Because Harry was lonely.

It was embarrassing to think that Louis was the only person that made him seem as if he had someone. He always felt alone in other people’s presence. Not Louis’, never ever Louis’.

It wasn’t until Thursday that he caught Louis’ gaze while they were at lunch. Harry could feel the stare, but someone was always looking at him, so it wasn’t different for him. It wasn’t different until he noticed that the stares were coming from Louis.

He twisted sideways, glancing at Louis and for once, Louis didn’t look away. Louis held Harry’s eyes with looks that could kill. Harry stayed silent as he clenched his jaw. And then he could feel cold hands on him again. Right. The girl. It was the girl. Harry didn’t even know her name, he didn’t care honestly. But she was the reason Louis was staring at him.

Harry could feel lips being pressed to his neck and none of it felt right.

Nothing felt warm and cozy, the way Harry wanted kisses to feel. Harry had abandoned comfort a long time ago.

Kisses kept being placed all over his neck and face, but Harry kept his eyes on Louis. Louis attempted to do the same. Louis wanted to keep some type of dignity, to prove that this girl was no one important. Louis dropped his gaze from Harry and to the girl, who was sucking on his neck. To be at school, Louis was surprised that no one else was really paying attention to them. He gulped before sending a pleading look to Harry. He was weak. He couldn’t handle watching the girl kiss on Harry. Harry felt triumphant for some reason.

But then he saw the sorrow in Louis’ eyes and that was enough confirmation for him. He gripped onto the girl’s elbow with strong fingers. She stopped and Harry nodded at Louis. It was enough for Louis to understand.

Harry knew.

 

***

 

Sometimes Louis liked to sit alone. He liked the lights off and the stars hung in the sky to be his only light.

He liked the way his room was clean and the way the sheets smelled lonely. Louis liked not being able to hear anything else but the rattle of the television from the room over. He liked listening for visitors downstairs as he sat alone. Sometimes he’d cry, sometimes he’d laugh and tell himself to suck it up. He’d cut the lights on and then cut them back off, because he decided against it.

Often, Louis would wonder what Harry would think if he knew this about Louis. Louis liked the room dark. If it were up to him, everything would constantly be dark. There would be no lamp to cut on or the sun would never shine. Louis would enjoy the sullen darkness.

Until Harry was there with a smile that could overtake any illumination. The world would be bright again.

Part of Louis wanted a superhero. Someone to force the lights on and make him talk. Superheroes didn’t exist. Superheroes couldn’t save Louis.

What would Harry think if he knew how sad Louis was? Or how well Louis was a faking it? What if Harry knew about Louis locking his door and walking to the window, with all thoughts in his mind of jumping? What if Harry knew?

Louis would back down again, he always did. And his mother would be there to shove antidepressants down his throat.

***

The girl was there when Louis went back to school. She seemed to be a visible ghost that haunted Louis each and every second. She was still with Harry, but things seemed different. She didn’t suck on his neck or pull on his shirts. The two of them stayed quiet.

Louis wanted to ask Harry if he even really enjoyed her presence. He wanted to ask Harry why she was there. What was her purpose? Harry wasn’t supposed to care about any of them but Louis. He felt selfish because he wanted Harry. He wanted Harry all to himself.

Growing up, Louis knew that eventually Harry would get a girlfriend, that eventually he would be there to support his best friend with his new girl. Those thoughts seemed out of reach until recently.

Because even though Louis knew those things would happen, he didn’t think about how it would effect him. Louis didn’t think that it would effect the way he fell asleep or the way his feet hurt from walking home. It shouldn’t hurt this much. None of it should hurt this much.

And now Niall knew. Which something told Louis that Niall had known for a while, but had just finally decided to speak out on it. Niall had followed Louis out to the parking lot with his head down and quiet footsteps, hopeful not to disturb him. Niall noticed the way Louis had walked past Harry’s truck and continued to walk along the sidewalk. It wasn’t until then when he had spoke up.

“Hey Louis? Let me give you a ride, yeah?”

It wasn’t like Louis hadn’t rode with Niall before. After all, Niall was someone Louis knew he could trust. But it was something in Niall’s voice that made Louis’ heart heavy and his head frantic. The thing that Louis loved most about Niall was the way that Niall was carefree and happy. Louis wanted that. So Louis just nodded and agreed to follow Niall to the small grey car that was conveniently parked beside Harry’s truck, because of course. Louis wasn’t getting out the easy way it seemed.

The truck wasn’t vacant. Harry sat there, in frustration watching the traffic go by as he always did, but this time Louis wasn’t in the passenger seat to keep him company. Instead, Louis was forced to walk up to where Harry was sitting as he waited for Niall to unlock the car. Louis could feel Harry staring on the back of his neck and it wasn’t what he wanted.

Louis wanted Harry’s lips barreling into his neck, not his eyes. You know what they say. Beggars can’t be choosers.

“He’s staring at you, y’know?” Niall eventually said, once they were both seated. Louis just fiddled with his fingers in his own lap, avoiding his window at all costs. He knew if he looked up there would be Harry, with those wild curls and fitted t-shirts.

“Probably thinks I’m dating you,” was all Louis could say. His voice was quiet and it wasn’t until Niall blew out a boisterous laugh that Louis realized he’d made a joke. He never made jokes.

And he could feel his own smile grow. He hoped Harry saw it too.

“You love him, don’t you?” The question hit him like a pound of bricks. There was no reason to deny it really. But it was the fact Niall had used love. It wasn’t a question if Louis really, really liked him. It was the realization that Niall could figure it out. Louis didn’t really like or adore Harry.

He loved him.

“I guess so. I think I have for a really long time.”

“I can tell. Not a bad guy to pick Lou,” yes he was. He was the worst person Louis could have picked because _Harry wasn’t gay_. Harry wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or a guy to cuddle up to. Louis had no answers about Harry.

“I didn’t get to pick him. Didn’t get a choice in this.” Niall just nodded and looked over at Harry again, Louis didn’t want to know what he saw. Louis just decided on keep steady conversation and keeping his eyes on the people around him. Anyone but Harry.

The sky was clear for once. No heavy clouds or absent sun. It looked like spring again. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“So you knew I was gay?” Louis didn’t want for his voice to crack, so he kept his voice quiet. He sounded vulnerable. A shrug was Niall’s initial response.

“I don’t assume anything about anyone. I didn’t assume you were gay and I didn’t assume you were straight, or anything for that matter really. I just figured I would wait to see who you dated or who you decided on loving,” Louis loved Niall, he knew that much. “I don’t care who you fuck or suck, none of my business really.”

Louis allowed himself to laugh at Niall’s statement. He couldn’t help but thinking about how that’s how things should be. No one should care what anyone else identified as. Louis identified as whatever and whoever he wanted to love. It wasn’t that easy. It never was. “Well I appreciate that,” Louis eventually said.

“So are you and Harry in like a fight or something?”

“I don’t know,” scraping the dirt from under his fingernails were still the only thing Louis could bring himself to do. “We’ve never really fought before. We don’t ever fight, actually. He’s just had that girl around him and I don’t want to deal with it.”

“You’ve been avoiding him.”

Maybe Louis had been avoiding him, which made him realize how stupid this whole situation was. He was the reason they weren’t talking, he was the reason he was sad and he wasn’t doing anything about it. Louis thought of himself as an idiot. “I don’t mean to avoid him.”

“Maybe you should just call him, or text him, something. Let him know what’s up. You don’t have to tell him that you love him or that you’re envious of that girl-“

“Not envious,”

“- just let him know that you’re sorry you haven’t spent time with him. If he decides to do something about it, then let him.” Louis just nodded, silently agreeing with him. He could do that, right? He could call Harry. Louis could apologize for whatever was happening between the two of them.

Finally they arrived at Louis’ house and it was the type of location where he could properly get his shit together. He didn’t have to worry about anyone else being there, considering the rest of his family seemed to be somewhere else. He thanked Niall with the most genuine smile and hug that he could give.

His phone felt like it was burning a hole into his pocket with Harry’s contact placed on speed dial. All it would take is a couple of pushes on his phone and he would be able to hear Harry’s low voice and fix everything. Louis had the power to fix everything. Except the girl. The girl would still be there.

Not always. No one was ever an ‘always’ for Harry.

He wanted to settle in first, so he did. He paraded up to his room and placed his book bag on the floor and opened the windows. For once, he didn’t want it to be dark. Louis plopped down on his bed and felt the comforter under him shift. His bed would be so much nicer if he didn’t have to sleep in it alone.

Louis tossed his phone from hand to hand, contemplating on if it was a good time to call Harry. He knew it was. Harry never did anything after school unless he was at work, yet somehow Louis was imaging every situation to keep him from calling Harry. However, the ringing of his phone cut him off and he jumped at the sensation.

He almost squealed in happiness, considering he finally had an excuse not to talk to Harry. Until he looked down at the screen to see who it was that was calling him. And there he was, Harry. Harry was the reason his phone was ringing. Louis thought their brains were aligned. Some weird soulmate bullshit.

“Hello?”

“Louis.”

It only took one word to send Louis into a pile of guilt. It wasn’t that Harry seemed angry or sad, even, but he could hear the emotionless tone that Louis had always hated. He hated it even more when it was coming from Harry.

“I was, uh, just about to call you, actually,” he admitted with his teeth caught on his bottom lip in nervousness.

“You were?” Harry breathed out a breath that he had probably kept in for far too long. Louis thought it was possible that his hand was shaking from the sound.

“Yeah, wanted to apologize.” The word seemed foreign to him. He usually never had to apologize for anything. Especially not to Harry. He usually kept his thoughts to himself and did nothing to upset anyone else. Apologizing felt like a long awaited failure.

“Apologize?” Harry questioned.

“I don’t,” _know what to say_. Louis stopped himself from saying those words. He knew that he had something worth saying sorry for.

“I’ve been acting like a really bad friend lately. As your best friend I should be there to support you and I haven’t been there. I’m sorry.” That was the truth. He didn’t feel the need to tell him anything else. As far as Louis was concerned Harry didn’t need to know anything he didn’t ask about. Louis could admit to being sorry and for not supporting him.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” his voice had turned soft and it was so different to hear. Harry was someone who’s walls were always built up. Never soft. Maybe Louis had been avoiding him.

How could both Niall and Harry know without Louis even realizing it? Louis avoided a lot of things and maybe it was obvious. He avoided Harry. He avoided happiness and any trace of brightness from the boy he had been missing out on.

“I didn’t mean to, I didn’t I swear. It just. It gets hard sometimes, y’know?” And Louis caught his own breath hitch once it was out. He wanted to cry. Louis wanted to cry on his sheets because even though he was lonely, at least there would be something. Something to symbolize the way he might not have been so alone because then it proved that there was somebody behind his tears.

“Is this about Alexandra? Louis I’m not with her.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” Harry ran his hands through his long hair (that had been growing longer by the second) with a frustrated tone behind his voice. “God no, Lou. I mean she’s for a little bit of fun every once and a while, but that’s all it is. That’s all it’s ever been and that’s all it will ever be.”

Louis should have felt better about Harry not being with her. Fun. Of course. She had been fun. Direct words from Harry Styles himself. Words that Louis wanted him to take back. But maybe this was the way the pain could be eased. Finally Louis was getting the truth. He knew that once everything was on the table then things would get better, but he still hated the thought.

Sex was all that was between the two, but even that made Louis sick to his stomach. He wanted Harry. Louis deserved Harry. “I know. I know, it’s none of my business really,” he treated it like his business anyways.

“I’m sorry.”

“No H, I’m sorry. Really. No need to apologize, you never,” _never did anything wrong_. “She’s only temporary. I know.”

“They always are Louis.”

“I’m not temporary.”

“Not you, mate. We made a promise, yeah?”

And there was this thing. It was a laugh. A laugh from Harry that caused Louis to chuckle under his breath with a smile that was blinding, even though no one else could see it. Harry was laughing. A type of joy that was shown at the thought of their younger days. Always going to be there. Never going to die alone.

“She does make some pretty rad hickeys,” Louis joked and he swore he could hear the way Harry almost choked as he attempted to hold back the laughs about to escape. He failed. And man, were his laughs loud. Louis loved it, even if it was only over the phone.

“ _Louis!_ ”

“I’m just saying!”

Both of them ended the call happily with giggles and a promise to see each other tomorrow. In fact, Harry had told Louis that he would be there to pick him up in the morning before they had to go to school. Louis had agreed because he hated when his mom had to drop him off or when he had to walk there by himself. Maybe it was just Harry’s company. Maybe it wasn’t. For once Louis had a good nights sleep.

He felt well rested and healthy, and not emotionally vacant. Even if it were for one day, well, it was worth more than it seemed.

The sun seemed to beam into his room the whole entire morning. It was a break from the rain. On the beautiful day, Louis was just the same. Beautiful, really.

(It was the first thought that crossed through Harry’s mind once he had seen him. Louis’ clothes fit in all of the right places and there were no stray hairs flopping around. Harry didn’t hold down his affection real well, but he could at least try.

Harry pressed down on the hickey near his chest as a reminder.

_Girls, girls, girls, girls. Always has to be girls)._

Louis hopped up into the truck and breathed in the smell of Harry’s car. It smelt like the way fall looked, with rusty handles and an aroma that was unforgettable. Louis loved the fall. Louis loved Harry too.

It didn’t matter, it was spring and not fall, Harry didn’t love him the way he wanted and none of his imaginary world was actually real. He ought to remember that. Even that thought couldn’t ruin the good morning he had already had. And now Harry was here, that was enough.

“Good morning,” Harry said as he backed out and into the road.

“It is indeed my young pal Harry.”

“We’re the same age.”

“Shut up. Technically I am a couple months older.”

“You’re two months older,” Harry snorted. “Barely even!”

Louis just smiled and leaned his head back on the seat. He blindly reached for the radio and turned it up a bit. It wasn’t out of Louis’ element to treat Harry’s things as his own.

Some old sixties song Harry liked began to play. Louis wasn’t really a fan of the rock era, but it reminded him of Harry so he left it. In some ways Harry was a lot like a rock song. He sounded like the ideal man of the edge and raspiness. The lean body and the pigeon-toed feet. A rockstar in the wrong place.

“Do you want to stop for coffee or something? We’ve got a little extra time before we have to be at school.” There were so many things they could do in that extra time.

Louis looked over at Harry with a lust that shouldn’t have even been in place. He could see the marks littering Harry’s body, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. If Harry were his, they could have spent the extra time making out in his truck. Louis could have reached over to him and engulfed him in embraces and sloppy kisses. They could have share the seat with Louis straddling Harry’s lap. Maybe everyone could have watched them.

Watched the way they had no shame and needed each other. Wanted each other, too. Then Louis might have actually liked the attention of Harry being his.

They got coffee instead.

 

***

 

Things had gotten better for Louis. He didn’t walk home alone anymore, which spared him a new pair of shoes. He upheld conversations with Stan and Niall as if it were nothing, which meant Niall hadn’t brought up his interests.

His mother had been home more often, so he didn’t have to cook every night and watch his sisters. Most of all, things felt right. Louis had lived his whole life thinking that whatever he liked or whatever he was doing was all wrong. Everything he felt and thought made him feel guilty before.

He felt okay in his own skin. And maybe that was thanks to Niall. Considering it all, Niall hadn’t said a word to anybody. It seemed has if the topic had slipped his mind completely and he never brought it up. The self confidence Louis had lost was suddenly regained. He truly didn’t feel as if all of his actions were wrong.

It was during one of his classes that his teacher asked them all to write something they thought was ground-breaking. He thought the idea was stupid until his mind became faster than his heart and smarter than his conscience.

 _'You never really feel wrong. You feel things you don’t like or you don’t fancy, but you never feel wrong. You can’t feel it. Being wrong was never meant to be felt like an emotion. You never feel wrong, but you never feel right either._  '

And just those words made Louis think. Made him think if it was all really worth it. If keeping the closet sealed was actually as safe as he assumed, then why did he feel so at risk?

Being gay wasn’t something he should be ashamed of, but he didn’t exactly feel proud either. So he kept the thoughts to himself and only made glances towards hot men when not many people were watching. He didn’t tell his mom or his step-dad or sisters. He didn’t talk about it with Harry either, but he thought that was okay.

Felt right.

School was boring, to say the least. And all of his teachers felt the need to place him in the front of the classroom, as if they didn’t trust him to pay attention in the back. It was probably a smart idea. Harry drove Louis home everyday after school as if it was his duty not to let Louis down. Walking home every once in a while wouldn’t be so bad, but Harry never gave Louis the need to do anything but climb into his passenger seat.

Sometimes Louis could see Niall get into his car at the same time. Louis would stop and say hey and Niall would send him a big goofy grin that made Louis blush. Niall wanted Harry and Louis together. It was obvious.

Louis hadn’t realized that Harry and Niall had never properly met until one afternoon when Harry and Louis were walking towards Harry’s truck. Niall was shoving his book bag into the back of his small silver car with his hair perfectly messy and his jean jacket falling slightly on one shoulder. Louis stood behind him in questioning. He hadn’t seen Niall all day. Niall didn’t show up at lunch and Louis usually at least saw him in the halls, but today he hadn’t.

He stopped abruptly in front of Niall’s car. Harry looked at Louis confused, but stopped as well.

“Hey, Niall. You alright? I didn’t see you at all today.” Niall looked up at him after he had shut the back door to his car. His eyes went wide at the sight of Harry standing there. Sure Niall had been in Harry’s presence more than once, but never had Harry’s full attention before now.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, thanks for asking Lou. Just didn’t feel well so I spent as much time as I could sleeping today.”

“Well we missed you at lunch today, Stan could hardly eat his lunch without you picking food off of it.” Niall threw his head back with a laugh and attempted to mute it by putting a hand over his mouth.

And then Harry did something he usually didn’t. He smiled.

It’s not as if Harry never smiled, but he never really smiled unless it was around Louis. Seeing his dimples poke out in the presence of Niall was something Louis had never seen before.

Then Harry spoke up. “I like your laugh kid.” Harry moved from beside Louis and stuck his hand out towards the blonde Irish lad. “I’m Harry.” Niall took his hand and shook it with a smile on his face.

“Thanks. My mum tells me I’m too loud, but she can suck a dick for all I care,” Harry laughed. “I’m Niall. Nice to meet you, man.”

It was a bit odd for Harry to get along with one of Louis’ friends. He had never made the effort to get to know any of them before, but it’s not like Louis had made an effort to get to know Harry’s either. It was even weirder to think about the fact that Niall had made Harry laugh. When Louis said Harry was stone cold, he wasn’t kidding. Harry usually didn’t smile or only ever smirked when the time was right.

Yet, Niall’s first impression of Harry was much more than anything he could have imagined. “It’s nice to meet you too. Most of Louis’ friends seem like a bore, but I can’t believe he’s kept you to himself this long.” Louis playful hit Harry upside the head and Harry looked back at him with some type of fond before chuckling. Even Louis could see it.

Felt nice.

Niall laughed again and bid farewells as Harry and Louis loaded up for their way to Harry’s house.

What Harry had said made Louis think. Because truly, Harry never actually had met any of Louis’ friends. It was kind of just a set thing that Harry and Louis’ friends would never get along with one another. But having Niall there with Harry at the same time felt safe.

After all, Niall was a ball of light that never stopped moving. And Harry was the exact opposite. The dark that moved around to protect anything that would hurt Louis. Niall was Louis’ sunshine and Harry was Louis’ moon.

Being at Harry’s house wasn’t something he really thought was comfortable. After all, Harry’s parents were always fighting and it didn’t seem to be much of a secret that Des hated Louis. He hadn’t always hated him, but he was on to him. Skeptical of his intentions, you could say.

However, Louis really loved Harry’s room. It was his favorite thing besides Harry’s curls, probably. Or maybe his smell. Dimples, too. The point was Louis really liked Harry’s room so when they pulled up to Harry’s house, he noticed no one else was home. So he ran through the unlocked door (which really wasn’t safe) and made a beeline for the stairs. He busted through Harry’s room and plopped down on his bed. He could hear Harry downstairs, just now coming in and shutting the front door. The bed felt a lot like what Louis wanted. Harry finally made his way into his own room with a close smile on his face as he shook his head in disbelief at Louis.

“I still don’t understand why you love my bed so much.”

“It’s much more comfortable than my own.” And that wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the full explanation of it. You see, the thing was, Louis loved Harry’s bed because it smelt like him. It smelt like Harry in his natural state and it was as close as Louis could ever really get to an open Harry. It felt intimate, maybe. Harry just laughed and took a seat in the corner, next to his speaker that constantly was playing music, it seemed.

Louis still laid there with his nose in Harry’s sheets as he talked to Harry. Harry thought it was funny the way Louis’ voice was restrained.

But then they could hear the door downstairs open and shut and Louis knew that meant that Des was home. He could hear Harry sigh and Louis sat upright in the bed. He crossed his legs and fixed his hair, he knew that if Des decided to come up here, he would judge Louis in anyway he could. Not to mention, it was probably the wrong day to wear his tight blue-striped shirt and even tighter red pants.

Because, well, that didn’t exactly scream straight.

Des wasn’t someone to support homosexuality. It was times like this when Harry got really protective of Louis. Louis knew it was nothing but the fact that Harry hated his dad as much as Louis did. It’s not like Harry didn’t love Louis, but Louis knew there was a fine line. So whenever Harry would stand up for him, Louis was always grateful as they teetered their boundaries. There were footsteps coming up the stairs and Harry caught Louis’ eyes before the door opened. He nodded at Louis as an attempt to comfort him.

Des didn’t knock. He never found a reason to, so he simply never did. It was an invasion of Harry’s privacy, Louis thought. It wasn’t like he’d ever tell Des that.

“Oh! Louis, well I didn’t know you’d be here. What a surprise.” _Wasn’t it supposed to be a nice surprise? Isn’t that how the saying went?_

“Yes sir, didn’t really want to be at home alone today.” Louis was able to keep a straight face, but could see Harry out of the corner of his eyes. Harry’s lips were pressed together and his eyebrows were raised, a smirk place upon his face as he looked at his father.

“Well, I was about to take Harry to the gym. I think you ought to join us. You know, get a bit of muscle on those arms of yours.”

“He’s not going to the gym dad,” Harry spoke up as he stood up and made his way to the closet.

“I’m just saying, he should get some more muscles. Be a bit more manly, that’s all.”

“Doesn’t seem necessary,” and okay. Harry was fighting Louis’ fight for him. It wasn’t until Harry had peeled off his shirt from his body that Louis realized he was staring, even with Des in the same room. Harry’s smirk was prominent as he looked at his father, just asking for Des to slap him.

He put on a different t-shirt as Louis dropped his eyes to his own feet that were curled up under him. It wasn’t like Louis hadn’t seen Harry change before. It didn’t bother him either, it made it a bit harder not to want to touch him, but he could deal with it. However, this seemed different. As if Harry wanted his father to see the way he changed in front of Louis. The way they had an open friendship.

Des shook his head in disappointment as he looked at Harry who had already changed into workout shorts, too. “Nice to see you Mr. Styles. I’m going to go,” Louis said as he stood up.

“I’ll drive you home. Don’t wait up dad,” Harry replied as he patted his dads arm and made his way out of his room behind Louis. The look Des gave Louis was filled with disgust and anger. Louis didn’t know why Des hated him so much. Besides the fact that he was gay, but even then he was closeted.

Des cared far too much about his interests in dick.

The ride to Louis’ house was quiet except for the radio that played softly. Harry looked nice in his workout clothes, his legs finally free from his usual jeans. His tennis shoes were bright, unlike the boots Harry usually wore. And even his hair was pulled up into a half-bun, considering that was about all Harry could manage with the length.

“Your dad hates me.” Louis eventually said with a chuckle and exasperated sigh.

“He hates me too, so don’t take it personal.” Harry chuckled along with Louis as they finally reached Louis’ house. Louis closed his eyes before unbuckling his seatbelt, thinking about the judgement he’d received today.

“I don’t know why he hates me.”

“Yes,” Harry laughed and looked over at Louis. “Yes, you do.” Louis rolled his eyes at the reference and mention of his sexuality.

“Wow thanks pal, you sure are great at this moral support thing.” Harry just shook his head as he contained a smile that was threatening to escape.

Instead, he pulled Louis back to him and kissed the top of his head. “Don’t let him get to you,” he mumbled against Louis’ hair. Louis nodded, unable to speak and Harry gave Louis one more peck to his temple.

And, well, if Lottie saw through the kitchen window, she never said anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting into the real story of H&L so I hope you like it. 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @sinlesscurls !


	4. Present Day - II

On that Saturday, Louis woke up to a bed full of little girls jumping up and down in an attempt to wake him up. Every curse word came to the tip of his tongue before falling back down, because even though it was too early in the morning to be awake on a Saturday, at least he could smell pancakes and the scent of shampoo and perfume from his sisters.

Family was a big deal to Louis. Family was all he wanted on his bad days and all he had on his good days. So when he came downstairs with half-opened eyes, sweatpants that were far too big for him and still had to fight for whatever was left over for breakfast. Well, he didn't actually mind.

It was times like this that made him think he didn't need his medicine. Because he was happy, truly. He had to be, in order to deal with all of these females who did nothing but scare him with estrogen. Sometimes he'd pick fights with his mum about not taking the antidepressants on his good days, which were usually on the weekends. Except Sundays, because he had to see Des and deal with his smart remarks.

So really he only had Saturdays that made him happy. But whatever, it was okay. Yet, now he knows the routine.

If he doesn't take his medicine, he can't have his phone or any television or go anywhere with any friends until his mom is positive he's swallowed it. Which, is really stupid considering at least those things distract him. When he has no medicine in his system and has nothing to do but twiddle his thumbs, then Saturdays turn out to be bad days too.

He takes his medicine without a thought and hides them back in the drawer that only him and his mum know about. Fizzy and Lottie know too, but they never say anything anyways so theres no use in pretending he cares.

Lottie sits across from him at the table, texting away at her phone and running her hand through her hair in attempts to brush it out. Lottie is truly stunning, all of his sister are, really. It worries Louis because boys are animals. He knows this well enough to stress. And it's not like Louis hasn't had his experience with guys, because he has.

Mostly closeted guys who won't share his secret because then they'd be telling on himself too. Louis isn't exactly a blushing virgin, to say the least. His 'love life' has been quickies on the soccer fields with athletes who moan his name and forget it the next day. He couldn't give any fucks. Well, except for the fact he already kind of has.

Oops.

His thoughts are about boys with hardly any morals are interrupted when his mother shoves a box filled with spring formal decorations are set on the counter in front of him. Jo barely takes another glance at him before muttering a quick, “Need you to take those over to Anne."

"Do I absolutely have to?" His jean jacket was already around his shoulders and a box was being pushed into his hands with no hesitation. His mom was frantic, running around like a chicken with her head cut off trying to get the twins ready for a birthday party they had later on.

"Louis. I need you to do this one thing for me today, and maybe if you could, google how to braid hair, then you could help me get Daisy and Phoebe ready next time. But, yes, right now you absolutely have to."

It took no time for him to settle down into his car, because he did have one, he just never drove it to school. Finding parking spots in a lot with viscous teenagers was not really his cup of tea.

The ride to Harry's took no thought and no sense of direction. It was something Louis did with no second guesses or questioning glances. It had always been that way, it seemed. It was embarrassing for him to know the points around Harry's house better than his own. Pulling up into Harry's driveway was a relief once he saw no one else was home but Harry. And Louis had expected Harry to open the door, obviously. But he didn't exactly expect him to open it _shirtless_.

He could do this. He could. It would just make his idea of not staring for too long a bit harder. He had will power. Really.

"Hey Lou."

"Hi?" Louis shook his head attempting to clear his head and focus on the box in his hand. "Mom instructed that I drop off this box for Ms. Anne." Harry smirked down at him, taking the box out of his arms. If Harry's fingers happened to slide against the inside of his wrist, Louis tried not to think about it too hard.

"Yeah, yeah. Come in." Louis did as instructed, because he was properly whipped. Shutting the door behind him, he followed Harry into the dining room where he had already put the box down. He ignored the very shirtless Harry in order to rummage through the old decorations.

The colors of pink and yellow made him sick. It screamed spring and all things happy.

"Is this all for the spring formal?" Louis nodded in reply, still digging in the old disco balls and half-ripped streamers.

"Seems like it. Although I, personally, believe they put too much effort into this thing." Harry laughed from behind him.

His hair was slightly messy and his sweatpants were sitting low on his hips. Louis was trying to pretend he didn't notice. "So is that you saying you won't be attending the spring formal?"

Louis' calves were growing tired from standing on his tip toes for too long, but if anyone asked, he was not short.

"You know how I feel about dances sponsored by the school. It's just a dumb excuse for girls to buy a dress that match a boy's tie. Just so they can hold him down for the night. Not the guys really care. _Oh no_ ," Louis was doing that thing with his voice. The thing where it got too high and also way too sarcastic. He only ever uses it to mock somebody. "Because the guys are really only paying this much money to get her in his hotel room later."

A low chuckle came from Harry, because obviously Louis was right. Appearance, money, sex. It was all anyone in high school seemed to care about, in all honesty. However, Harry's breath of a laugh caused Louis to stutter on his thoughts, because he could feel it. He could actually feel it on the back of this neck, meaning Harry had to be closer than Louis thought for that type of nonexistent contact.

"Really? You're not going?" And _okay_. Harry is super close. Like close enough to bite Louis' ear if he wanted to. Or maybe that's because Louis wants him too. Whatever. He's really close is the point, really fucking close and it causes the hairs on the back of Louis' neck to stand up in awareness of the pretty boy's presence.

"Definitely not going, Styles," is all Louis can really get out with a straight tone and no wavering, annything else might have been untrusting.

"I thought it might be a bit of _fun,_ honestly."

Louis' whole body seems to tense when he feels the long fingers placed around his hips, Harry's palm digging in the skin near his hipbone. And all of these feelings of confusion and cloudy eyes, are real. Because Harry is actually, really using his rough hands to grab onto Louis through his shirt.

It’s not the first time Harry has ever touched Louis. There’s been plenty of times when Harry slides past with a hand on Louis’ hip, or puts his arm around the other boy’s shoulders, but it’s never quite been like this. It screams sexual tension, but Louis knows. He’s teasing Louis. It’s not even about sex, it’s about the fact that Harry is actually holding on to Louis. Using his hot breath against Louis’ skin and soft fingers on his flesh.

Louis should tell him to stop, but he doesn't, he won't. Being teased by Harry is never something he could ever imagine happening, but it is and now Louis doesn't know what to do. He decides on resting back into the contact, acknowledging Harry and his grasp without making him feel as if Louis is freaked out.

He is the exact opposite of scared. He feels needed and wanted all at the same time. He feels like warmth and sunny skies. Louis raises an eyebrow and settles a smirk on his face. He turns slightly to see Harry and he's doing the exact same.

Harry's grip on him gets tighter and makes it even harder for him to keep a straight face. Damn Harry Styles.

Harry is looking down at him and his eyes are so green that Louis wants to scream. It should feel weirder to be held like this. Louis expected a worldwide emergency to take place, or for everything in his brain to come tumbling down, if this were to ever actually happen.

Life is hard at this point with Harry grabbing on to him, wanting to touch him, but for him to look into Harry's eyes at the same time. Well. This could very well be a form of torture. "You alright there, Louis?"

It's even more unfair that Harry drags his name out, mouth moving over every letter in his name. He nods silently, but can't help to laugh with flushed cheeks.

Harry does the same and pulls him tighter into his embrace, bare chest pressed against Louis' back. If Louis weren't to be on his tiptoes, his bum and Harry's crotch would align.

He feels like the way he used to imagine the spring time.

Pretty and colorful, to say the least.

 

***

 

Louis got drunk. Which was a really stupid idea. Everything is fuzzy and none of it feels warm, the way it should be.

It feels like heartbreak and puzzle pieces, but things are getting better. There's no motive behind it.

Maybe he gets drunk just to say he can. As if getting drunk will make him forget any moments in the past week where he was sad about Harry.

He's not sad about Harry because things are going good, he doesn't want to be sad, anymore (things are going really fucking good). Harry has started to touch Louis more and maybe he's leading him on, maybe he's not.

He can't bring himself to care. It's useless. Most of all, Louis gets drunk to forget any reason he was ever mad at Harry, because Harry deserves to touch and hold Louis in any way he wants.

There's a possibility Louis might want him, as well.

If he got drunk enough to forget the way Harry’s hands felt on him, then maybe life would be a bit more simpler. Because ever since them his skin has been itching for the contact again, as if he’s already become addicted to the way they feel together.

Harry deserves the world, but if he'll settle for Louis, well, he can have him, too.

 

***

 

Being terrified is an understatement to what Louis feels.

Louis is absolutely scared out of his mind because the new semester is starting. With the new semester comes brand new classes and brand new classmates. All in all, it's just too much change at once.

The only thing he's looking forward to is English class because at least he can do that right.

Harry drives him to school on the first day of the new semester. He can probably hear Louis' heart beating out of his chest. This time he's not being dramatic, not one bit.

Louis really fucking hates change.

"Come on Lou." Harry had gotten out of his seat, walking up to the passenger side, with his arms placed where the window had been rolled down. He looks at Louis with pleading eyes, but they're still really fucking beautiful. "I'm sure it won't be that bad. Maybe we'll even have classes together this time."

"Harry, they haven't put us in class together since fourth grade. I highly doubt they'll start now."

"And why is that again?" Harry asks, with a teasing smile. Louis sends him a glare, but there's no threat behind it. Honestly, Louis could probably never really hurt Harry.

"Because I bossed you around and your teachers thought I was too controlling," he mumbles with a frown, in hopes that he actually didn't have to admit to what had happened a long time ago.

"What was that?" The smile placed on Harry's lips is sarcastic and filled with taunt. He leans forwards as a cue for Louis to repeat himself.

"I was too controlling!" Louis nearly yells, but Harry just chuckles and smiles wider as he nods his head in triumph. Loser.

It was true that their old teachers assumed Harry fell over every word Louis said and felt the need to split them up. They wanted Harry to 'gain his own belief and confidence' or some bullshit like that. Louis liked being in control.

"Look, you can text me after every period and I can walk you to your first class, just please get out of the truck." Harry's puppy dog eyes are always something Louis could never look past. It was a weakness.

He grunted in frustration and opened the door, causing Harry to stumble back. "I don't need a babysitter," Louis spit back. He hadn't really meant for his voice to be as sharp as it was. With a swift motion, he threw his bag over his shoulder.

"No, love. I didn't mean it like that-" The nickname tripped Louis up, just a tad, but he realized his mistake quickly.

"Hey. H, it's okay." He turned towards Harry with wide eyes and a small closed-mouth smile. They were probably way too close. "I'm just nervous and a bit on the edge today." _My medicine hasn't begun to work yet._

"You're going to be okay. You've done this plenty of times before," Harry says as he looked down at Louis (who was wearing his best shirt and the tightest pair of pants he owned, _thank you very much_ ).

Harry's eyes were glimmering under the light and he is just so pretty, always has been pretty. There was no sugarcoating it, and even with the fitted t-shirts and large biceps, no one could deny the structure of Harry's face to be any less than beautiful. Fucking princess, even.

It would be a perfect time for them to kiss.

"I've got to get going, but I'm sure I'll see you later. Good luck!" And Harry was gone with a wave and a large dimpled grin. Louis could forgive him for not kissing him.

Trudging into his first class, his book bag suddenly felt too big and the bags under his eyes felt too heavy. He darts towards the back to claim the safest seat. He'd probably be interest in psychology if he wasn't so worried about the fact he knew practically nobody in his class.

There were pictures of the brain hung up on nearly every surface of the walls. Louis frankly didn't give a shit about being a surgeon, or a therapist, or anything else. He used this class as an excuse to learn about how people think, possibly to figure out his own brain. Psychology was something he actually was curious about.

He had every reason to wonder about the brain, if anyone deserved answers it was him. He wanted to know why he hated himself most of the time, why Harry was so sad constantly, why Lottie got mad at him for no reason over the littlest thing, why his real dad left him... He wanted answers instead of questions, for once.

The class had filled by now, but the teacher had yet to show himself. Louis looked around, only to find faces he saw in the hall, but never spoke to. It wasn't until then, did he notice the broad, brown-eyed boy sitting beside him looking like a lost puppy.

"Hi." Louis has nothing to lose, tapping the boy on the arm timidly with a bright smile. Nice biceps. He'd never seen this guy before, and he felt sorry for whoever dragged this poor human to his forsaken school. "Are you new?"

The guy chuckled and widened his eyes as he turned his attention to Louis. "Yeah, it's my first day here, actually. I'm Liam Payne."

The bo- Liam, smiled over at Louis and stuck his hand out, easing into his introduction. Louis shook his hand freely and smiled back at him.

Liam's bushy eyebrows and tanned skin fit well together and he couldn't help but admire the manly beauty of it all.

"I'm Louis Tomlinson. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you here, but I fucking hate school and I would literally rather be anywhere else."

 

***

 

Louis' classes didn't suck. Which was a good thing, supposedly. Not to mention his psychology teacher was really hot.

Mr. Miranda was just shy of twenty-three, straight out of ~~the closet~~ \- college. He had short hair, with a bit of scruff working his way across the bottom half of his face. Louis should have been embarrassed to even think these things.

It's hard to feel guilty when there's a good possibility the teacher is the only reason he'll be passing the class. God seemed to start loving Louis again.

He only had one more class after lunch and that was English. Thankfully, he still had lunch with Niall and Stan and even Liam. Liam was a nice guy, in all honesty, always smiling.

Louis envied it without a doubt, wanting whatever happiness his friends contained.

"So, what brings you here? I mean, where are you from? Why'd you transfer?" Niall asked Liam, popping a piece of Louis' lunch into his mouth. It's not like Niall ever ate his own lunch, what is the fun in that?

"Oi! Don't throw twenty questions all at once blondie." Niall was about to throw whatever he had in his hand at Louis in protest. However, he took one look at the food in his hand and decided to eat it instead.

"No. He's okay," Liam stated, looking up at Louis. "My father recently got married to a woman around here. We moved in with her last week, her son goes here so they thought that it would be a good transition if I did too."

Bless Liam Payne.

"Who's her son?'

"Nick Grimshaw."

Okay, _really_ bless Liam Payne.

The unspoken entity that was Nick Grimshaw made Louis want to throw up. It took everything in Louis not to choke on his water or to burst out in laughter. The only association Louis ever had with Nick was the small quickies in his room when his family wasn't home or blowjobs by the fields or sometimes in alleyways.

If Louis wasn't getting off with Nick, then he hated his presence. And now here was Liam, saying that he was now related to Nick Grimshaw and Louis almost wanted to out him right there with laughter and penis jokes. He kept his mouth shut in retrospect.

"Wait, so your stepbrother is Grimmy?" Stan asked, joining the conversation. Right, Louis had forgotten that Stan and Nick are actually friends. Co-captains of the soccer team,it seemed.

"Yeah. He's a right lad. Well, Nick is alright, I guess. We kind of just tolerate each other, you could say."

"Everyone practically tolerates him, with all due respect." Stan shot Louis a disapproving glance, but chuckled nonetheless.

The conversation about Liam's stepbrother was cut short when the double doors to the cafeteria opened. Harry stood there in all of his glory, with his journal in one hand and the other running through his long hair. Everyone had practically turned on their seats, just so they could see him.

Louis wanted everyone to stop looking, but he always did, really. Not only was Louis selfish, he was possessive too.

He looked away from where Harry stood and decided to focus on the fork in his hands, stabbing at the pasta in front of him. Maybe if he stopped staring, other people would follow his lead.

"Who's that?" Liam asked in a whisper, almost as if anyone that heard him would yell at him for ruining the grand entrance.

"Harry Styles." Niall answered, looking over at Louis, almost timidly. Louis saw the shadows hidden in Niall's bright blue eyes, but decided to ignore it.

"He's very pretty," Louis almost spit out his water at Liam's remark. So casually had Liam mentioned he found another boy pretty, as if it didn’t matter who cared.

There might be no strings attached to a comment like that where he was from, but in Holmes Chapel, well, there might be a little more commotion.

"He's Louis' best friend." A small smiled took place on Louis' lips at the connection. People associating Harry with Louis and vice versa, always brought some type of happiness to him.

Liam's eyes beamed towards Louis and he felt proud. Louis was proud to be Harry's best friend. It made him realize that even if Harry wasn't technically his, well, he sort of was, because no one ever connected Harry with anyone else but Louis.

As insufferable as it seems, there's only one more period to get through before Louis can go home and lay in his nice, warm bed. The idea of a nap makes the plastic seat under him seem even more unbearable. Louis seems to be the first one to show up for English class.

This classroom seems to be a bit different compared to the rest of them, one of the walls made entirely out of windows, bringing whatever mood the weather is in, into the room. Naturally, Louis picks a desk that's as close as possible to the outside world.

A few kids have settled into their seats, most of them with their heads down and with their books in front of them.

It's not until a broad figure enters through the doorway, that the other kids lift their heads. Louis is too busy with scribbling down useless quotes to even notice the boy, until he's sat down next to him. He looks up from his paper to see a grin that could control the universe with its brightness.

"Fancy seeing you here, considering you insisted we'd never be in a class together ever again." _Harry_.

Every other student squirms under the pressure of Harry's existence, especially in the same room as them. They probably all feel too insecure compared to the human that is Harry Styles. Many times Louis thinks that if they hadn't become friends at the age of six, Harry never would have known about him. He would have been invisible in contrast to Harry's blockade of popularity.

"I said it was doubtful," Harry's smile was still there, so Louis smiled too. "Yet, here we are."

"Who did you have to pay in order to be put into the same class as me?" Harry asked with a smirk, causing Louis to laugh. Which was weird, considering they hardly ever did this unless in the comfort of their own homes.

"The same person everyone else in this room paid. That man is making bank, currently." He crinkled his nose in reply, the boy was still modest when it came to flattery that was told straightforward. Harry fucking _crinkled_ his nose. Almost like a kitten.

A goofy smile danced on his lips at Louis' remark.

Class started, but everyone watched Harry, rather than the teacher. Louis understood Harry was much more interesting than the old lady sitting at her desk. Louis listened to her intently, just like Harry. The rest of the class didn't even bother.

Mrs. Bay had grey hair and the kindest smile. She deserved the attention, even if she wasn't getting any. Her appearance screamed intelligent, with a bun on top of her head and her glasses on the brim of her nose. Wise beyond her years might have been a fitting description, had she not been so old already.

Louis was taking it all in, the classroom filled with books, the classmates who looked bored and in awe, all at the same time. At this point, he felt a paper ball land on his desk. Harry's eyes were twinkling while staring at Louis and then back to the paper ball.

With silent movements, Louis unraveled the ball only to see Harry's handwriting. ' _COME OVER TO MINE_?'

He scribbled down a quick  _'I am trying to pay attention, Harold_!' and threw the paper ball back.

Before opening up the note, Harry glanced up at Mrs. Bay, to make sure she hadn't seen. Even if Harry acted like he was stone-cold, he still cared. At least a little bit, even if he wouldn't admit it.

The ball was thrown back to Louis with a response of, ' _ANSWER ME. I'M LONELY AND NEED COMPANY_ '. And really, who was Louis to deny him?

' _I kind of wanted to take a nap_.'

' _SLEEP IN MY BED_ ' It made Louis' heartbeat skip at the words written in Harry's natural form.

Louis pondered on an appropriate answer before settling on ' _Hell fucking yes_ ', and throwing it back. Harry laughed at his answer, causing a few people to look at him.

Harry was unabashed with his actions and didn't really mind how odd he looked. The teacher hadn't heard him, anyways.

He makes Louis happy.

When class was over, Harry wordlessly follows protectively after Louis on the way to his truck. Harry is scary and beautiful and too many other things for Louis to process.

The ride to Harry's isn't necessarily silent. It consists of Harry asking him how his day was and how he thinks his classes will go for the rest of the year. It's them laughing at the fact someone was actually dumb enough to put them in classes together. And when the two of them aren't talking, it's a comfortable quiet over the sound of the engine.

Louis knows where the key for the front door is hidden, but he decides it's better for him to wait on Harry to unlock it, instead.

"Your house smells like-"

"Coconut and flowers? It's mom's new favorite scent." Louis eyes Harry in disbelief, just entering the house. They both laugh in the beautiful smelling air. Harry stomps up the stairs with his loud boots and Louis follows suit. Once they're in Harry's room, Harry makes the point to spread out his long limbs taking up all of the room on his bed. Louis pouts in disappointment.

"You said I could take a nap." There is a slight possibility that he's acting like a five-year-old, but Louis is super tired and really loves Harry's bed. Point blank. Harry shakes his head, smiling and buries it into to his pillow, before flipping on to his back, shuffling to make room.

"Well then, come sleep." And, _okay_. Harry wants Louis to sleep with him. Or like, lay in his bed? While he sleeps? Louis obligates, with swift movements before he can stop himself.

He tried not to read into it too much, but, he feels tense. There's no way he'll be able to sleep like this, unable to move, afraid that he'll do something wrong or touch some type of boundary between Harry and himself.

He lays there stiff, hands by his sides. Almost as if he's too scared to move a muscle.

Until he feels Harry throw an arm around his stomach, pulling him closer. He relaxes instantly and it's embarrassing, honestly. The comfort he finds in Harry's touch. There's no clear lines or rules about what's happening. No guesses as to why Harry would want him close.

"Harry-"

"Shh," is the only response he gets as Harry pulls him even closer, body on body, causing them to be at eye level.

"What if your dad walks in?"

"He's on a business trip," Harry discards his hand through his own hair. “We're fine, Lou. Stop worrying." So, he listens.

He doesn't argue because he can't help but notice the way Harry described them as one. We. He allows all of the stress to melt away between Harry's arms. Harry squirms down further, spreading his hand out across Louis' stomach and laying his head on Louis' chest.

Louis thinks there is a good chance he's dreaming. That this is all some sick dream his mind is playing on him, and he'll eventually wake up and not have Harry there. But he feels Harry's fingers over his shirt and he knows it all feels too real.

"This okay?" He's cuddling with Louis and is asking Louis if it's okay. The poor boy is stupid.

“We should talk about this.”

“Nap first, then talk. Just tell me if it’s okay."

“Yeah, yeah. This is okay." Harry snorts at Louis' attempt at sounding calm and collected.

They fit, is the thing. And even though Harry is so much bigger than Louis, he fits perfectly in the gaps of Louis' body. He looks much smaller pressed against Louis and Louis thinks that everyone who thinks Harry is scary and intimidating, doesn't really know him. Harry is soft and lovely and all things good.

Louis falls asleep after watching Harry's even breaths for a while. Immediately, Louis folds into Harry and makes himself even more comfortable.

Whatever they are, or whatever they're doing can be summed up by the way Harry's hand rises and falls, going along with Louis' breathing pattern.

They don’t talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "To believe in love, to be ready to give up anything for it, to be willing to risk your life for it, is the ultimate tragedy."
> 
> -Leonardo DiCaprio


	5. Present Day- III

It's back to a hard expression and languid movements around anyone but Louis.

It's expected, as if Harry knows when Louis is trying to take one step forward so he takes two steps back.

Louis notices the way Harry talks to no one in the halls or in parking lots or anywhere else. It's difficult for Louis to understand because Harry is literally so adorable and, well, carefree.

There's a good chance that the people in their English class actually passed out the first time they saw Harry smile. Louis is almost accustomed to it and at the time didn't really realize how big of a deal it was for everybody else. Harry's deep dimples and pearly whites have enough power to cause someone to faint. Louis is sure of it.

All in all, Louis is starting to see things he's never really seen before. Like the way Harry hasn't cut his hair in a while (it's getting really fucking long and Louis lives for it). Or how he's just realized how good Harry looks in navy blue or army green. Red, too. Black, white. Everything. Harry actually looks good in absolutely everything.

Maybe he's known these things before now. Maybe he's just been waiting for the right time to admit that he's paying attention to detail. Louis always thought he knew everything about Harry. Yet, now there's this level of Harry that's being shown to Louis.

It started when Louis saw a hickey on Harry's neck.

They were on their way to school and Harry had already stopped to pick Louis up his favorite type of tea. Louis was in love with the gesture and even more in love with the boy.

Louis was properly staring at Harry and couldn't help but admire the plaid button down he wore. His skinny jeans matched so well with the boots he had on, believe it or not.Harry's hair half-up was what really set Louis off the edge. The cute little ponytail that was starting to form and could actually be split into two layers.

What he did not admire, was the large purple bruised that was littered in the center of Harry's pale skin. It was mocking Louis, almost.

Mind over matter wasn't relevant when all he could think was ' _I thought we were something. Things were changing. I didn't give him that hickey. I couldn't mark him._ ' Louis was uncomfortable in his seat and looked anywhere else than Harry. He wasn't going to overreact this time.

No hickey could be the cause for losing Harry. There was no use in Louis being upset or wretched. He couldn't blame Harry for not liking him the same way. If Louis didn't want people judging him for his preferences, then damn it, he wouldn't judge Harry for his.

Hypocrite was not an adjective to describe Louis. He was doing everything in his power not to speak because more than likely, whatever came out of his mouth would not be something he was proud of. "Styles, you didn't even try to cover that thing up did you?"

Harry's eyes widened before looking over at Louis and immediately covering up the mark left on him. A smirk took over Louis' face, in attempt to keep the mood lighthearted, anything but serious. He didn't feel like breaking down barriers today. "I don't like it."

Louis' brain was attempting to ruin things for him because his arm was moving before he thought about his actions. Shooing Harry's hand away, Louis pressed his thumb into the devilish mark. Harry didn't groan in pleasure or even in pain. He just kept his eyes on the road and gulped nervously.

If Louis could shut off his conscience he would. It caused more pain to him when he kept repeating, ' _I'll never get to mark him. He'll never be mine_ '.

"I don't know who she is, but I hope she writes sonnets about your eyes."

Laughing would probably be his best bet in order to show Harry he was only joking. Except for the fact he wasn't. He couldn't make himself laugh because it was true enough to mean something.

Harry deserved artist and poets to dedicate their best work to, he deserved being spoiled and being fixed. He didn't deserve a hickey that caused him no emotion at all.

Moving his hand should have been harder than it was, but Louis couldn't stand the hot flesh against his finger anymore. It was her teeth and her mouth that made this stupid mark, not her love. "Don't talk about it please. It didn't mean anything and I didn't want it."

Really there is absolutely no reason for Harry to have to justify whatever the reason is for the hickey. Harry shouldn't have to explain himself, but it means more to Louis that he did. Harry wanted him to know how pointless it is and Louis couldn't help but feel giddy about it.

He still hated the mark, he just didn't hate Harry. They don't talk about it anymore than that, considering Harry had asked not to. Louis can obey to that. Luckily, the conversation never got serious enough to cause any type of awkwardness between them, so they drove to school with the radio on and the windows rolled down.

Louis couldn't bring himself to care that the wind was probably ruining his hair. Instead, his stuck his head closer to the window than usual and allowed every passing moment of the atmosphere around him to crash on his face. It was symbolic and felt like living, somehow. Harry and air was about all he needed in order to live.

Things would have been simpler  probably, had it not been Gemma's death anniversary the next day.

 

 

***

 

Louis doesn't really know how this year will go. Last year Harry stayed locked up in his room for exactly twenty-four hours. The year before that he only replied with one word when anyone tried to spark a conversation with him.

It's understandable and normal and it hurts Louis, because there's no doubt in his mind that Harry deserves to be happy, but there is always this day that sits heavy on his shoulder. It hits heavy on Louis too, and it's one of those days where he takes his medicine without complaining and makes every attempt to comfort Harry.

Most of the time, he doesn't get to see Harry on that day. Louis is always forced to think about what things used to be like when they were younger. The pond they met at, the monsters they talked about, the rock they sat on together. Everything he could remember about being young was also everything he could remember about Harry.

It was when he realized that whatever was between the two of them was probably fate. So even if Louis will eventually be left heartbroken because Harry isn't into him or isn't gay, well, he can live with it because he got a fucking amazing best friend out of it. Harry shaped Louis into the person he is today, with proof or not.

The day starts when he rolls out of bed and notices that its already noon. Which is good, he guesses, because it makes the rest of the day shorter. He can hear the ruckus caused by his sister downstairs and he's never been more grateful for it.

He stumbles down the stairs and the hardwood is cold on his feet, probably should have worn socks. The living room is an absolute mess. There's toys sprawled over every surface around the house, and if it's not toys its makeup from Félicité and Lottie.

Louis doesn't understand how it's so easy for a smile to spread across his face when he can barely see his family under the filth. It feels messy and unorganized, most importantly it feels like home.

As soon as his mom seems him enter the room, she looks up at him with a pitiful smile. Louis appreciates the concern, but dismisses the pity he's receiving. His mom doesn't say anything about Gemma, she doesn't have to. It's written on her face that she just wants Louis to be okay. And he is. He's a bit sad (but he's already taken his medicine), and he's really worried about Harry right now, but thinks could be worse. He could be going through it all again.

"G'morning Lou. How did you sleep?" To say he was tackled in a hug would be an understatement. His mom throws her arms around him and pulls him in with a squeeze. Louis thinks squeezing while hugging is usually reserved for moms. She hugs him with plans of gluing back any pieces that are out of place.

"Fine, 'ts a bit cold up there though," he shivers to add a little bit more effect, but laughs nonetheless. Maybe that'll teach him not to sleep naked all the time.

There are girls clattered everywhere and Louis isn't quite sure how they do it. With his step-dad working all of the time, Louis is literally always surrounded by females. To be gay, you'd think he'd be punished another way. Not surrounded by girls who are literally his family.

He helps his mom with breakfast and steers clear of looking out the window. It's a dark type of glum that takes over the whole sky. The clouds look heavier than he's ever seen during the whole month of April and many months before that. There's no sun out and it's just bound to rain, as if it's even a real necessity to check the weather radar. He thinks about how overflowed the pond will be in no time.

"Did you-"

"Yes." She was inevitably going to ask about if he's taken his pills. It's a question he gets on days where it's more common for him to be sad, other than that his mom trusts him to take responsibility over his mental health.

"Have you texted Harry?"

"Have you texted Anne?" They both question each other at the same time. If it the situation wasn't so depressing, then it might would have been the slight bit funny that they are on the same page when it comes to the Styles' family. Jo is worried enough about Harry and Louis to even ask if they've talked today. Louis is the same with his mom and Mrs. Anne.

"I, um, texted her this morning. When I woke up with little girls pulling on my hair..." He can see the distress in her eyes as she sits down the pan that was in her and closes her eyes. His mom turns her whole body towards Louis and he can see the way she's hesitant to continue to talk. As if it's she'll be hurt if she keeps going. "I was so frustrated this morning because Phoebe and Daisy woke me up so early and I thought I needed the sleep. Until I remembered what today was and I just kept think about Anne. And how I'm so incredibly lucky that I've got fingers tangled in my hair and that this pain is honestly a pleasure. I didn't need sleep, I needed to wake up to five beautiful and healthy kids."

It feels like a weight was taken off of his shoulders and placed on his heart. Without another word, Louis wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her in. His mother is a saint, especially keeping up with all of these daughters and her only son who is so messed up. She cares and still loves her life more than anyone else Louis has ever met. She's got a heart of gold and gives it to anyone who's willing to take it.

"Yes, I texted her as soon as I was fully awake. Told her that I'm so glad to have her in my life and to let us know if they needed absolutely anything. I told her I wouldn't want to co-parent with anyone else." Louis laughs at that, because if Anne and his mom have learned to do something flawlessly, it's how to co-parent between Harry and himself. It's one of those factors that allows Harry to feel closer to Louis than anything else.

Their parents don't do it as much, considering the boys can take care of themselves, but Anne and Jo are as close as friends than Louis has ever seen. He wants a friendship that will last like there's and thanks the Lord above everyday that he's got Harry.

"I haven't talked to Harry yet." His mom spins around to look at him and hits him on the shoulder with her dishtowel.

"What are you waiting on, Lewis?" - Louis hates that name- "Text or call the boy, please. If he doesn't answer then don't bug him, he might just want peace and quiet. Don't take it personally if he doesn't want to talk, but you need to try to reach out to him."

A nod is about all he can give at the moment. Then he makes a decision that could possibly change the way his mother sees him, forever. He thinks he might should keep his mouth shut, or to just agree to call him. Instead, he opens his mouth without another thought. He forgets what will come after this and he forgets that there's strings attached to his statement. "I think I'm in love with him, mom."

The pity in his mother's eyes changes within a millisecond. He regrets it as soon as he says it, but there's this weird type of pain that feels nice. It's out there and he can't take it back, even if he wanted to. He clutches his fists at his sides, feeling his head spin without moving, but it all feels like it's crashing down, slower than usual. His breathing might be off, and he's pretty sure he's sweating far too much, but his mother doesn't move an inch.

His mind whorls around the possibilities of what can happen within the next couple of minutes. His mother could hate him, kick him to the curb and tell him how he doesn't deserve everything she's given him. She could tell him how lucky he was to have a family like the one he's got, how disappointed she is about how he let down God. What he doesn't expect is for his mother to start crying.

It's worrisome, because she hasn't talked since he said it. There are tears rolling down her face of salt and emotion and Louis wants it to stop, or for her to give him some type of reaction that he understands. Louis can feel his own tears ready to fall over the brim, but he does everything in his power to keep them down. He takes in a shaky breath and it causes his mom to whip her head up.

She's moving towards him with open arms before he has the chance to wipe his eyes. Louis can feel her wet face against his bare shoulder, but he can't bring himself to care because she is hugging him. And it's the fact that not only did he just come out of the closet to his mother, but he also came out about Harry. Finally. Someone in his family knows.

If one of the girls were to walk in the kitchen right now, Louis doesn't know how he would be able to cover this up. He'd have to make up some stupid excuse about why they're hugging and crying and letting the bacon burn behind them.

His mother pulls out of the hug and wipes away his tears before she even thinks about herself. This is what being put back together feels like, Louis can tell.

"My baby..." Louis actually, literally sobs under her touch. he can feel his whole body jolt in realization and laughs under his damp cheeks. "Does he know? Is it like a-"

"He's had, uh, he usually has girlfriends, mom. If that's what your asking." Jo continues to rub her hands up and down Louis' arms in an act of comfort. He's warm under her touch, but talking about Harry not liking Louis back, yeah, it's not something to sympathize with.

"But does he know? Louis, have you told him about your feelings? Have the two you talked this out before? Louis, I don't know how this usually goes, but."

"Mom," Louis kisses her forehead and pulls her in. Her words are a realization that this isn't something his mother really has experience in. He forgets that she hasn't always known he was into guys, nor does she know exactly what to do this time. "I think he knows. We don't talk about it, but he accepts me with open arms. Things get weird sometimes, but we push past it. I won't lose him because of it."

He can feel the sharp exhale she releases against him. "So he doesn't feel the same way?" Louis shakes his head and looks down. It's enough to start crying again, but he wants no pity and he especially does not want his mother to worry for him or for Harry. "Well, that's a shame," they pull away, properly and she kisses his nose with a small smile on her face. "I'm glad you know what you're doing."

She goes back to cooking, so Louis does too. "I.. uhm. I don't want the girls to know about, y'know. If that's okay, I'd rather this just stay between us. You're the only one that knows. Besides Harry. And I guess Niall, he kind of guessed. I didn't tell him."

"Of course, love. I won't do anything you wouldn't want me to." Louis nods in as a reply, attempting to show he's grateful. "Thank you."

"For what?" He's actually confused at her random reply. Shouldn't he be the one thanking her?

"It means so much that you would share this with me. I can't say I know how hard it is, but I can imagine it's not easy. I'd always noticed that somedays you were more reserved. And then you went through this week long phase where you didn't dress like yourself, and I pretended not to notice. But I hadn't it. I knew you had to be suppressing something."

"It had something to do with me liking Harry and I hated myself more than anything. I wanted to change my look and the way other people viewed me," his mother gives him a sharp look, as if she wants to cut off Harry's head. "It's not entirely his fault, mom. Don't get mad at him. We worked it out without actually talking and everything was fine, but at the time I wanted to do something that could conceal my sexuality a bit. It probably didn't work, but I thought I couldn't go back to whatever I was before."

Their conversation continues in small voices, afraid that his sisters will hear them. They talk a little bit more about how he knew, or when he figured it out. All of his answers come back to Harry, but thankfully his mom decides not to dig more into that discussion. Louis has never been more grateful, because this is the first time he's ever gotten to talk about it. His mother knows that if he wants to talk about Harry, then he will. It's not her place to dig deeper into his crush (which, it is hardly considered a crush at this point).

By the time they all eat breakfast and clean up after themselves, it's not even morning anymore. Louis keeps up steady banter with Lottie, as they fight over food.

Lottie chasing him around with a tube of lipstick is casual, but today it feels more lighthearted. He's not actually mad at her for following after him and they're both laughing at themselves and each other. Most of the time, Jo might be the least bit upset with them, but she stands at the doorway with a large smile on her face.

This day usually is a bad day. Mostly, Louis would lock himself in his room and promise he'd be out tomorrow. This time, he feels alright.

Louis is threatening to literally flip the couch over on Lottie whenever there's a knock on the door. They don't stop, leaving it up to his mom to get the door. Lottie is just about to trip over the rug whenever the light shines in from outside, even though it's dark and gloomy.

There's Harry. There's Harry standing with Anne and it feels all like some superficial movie because Louis hasn't even talked to Harry today. Louis' heart sinks in compassion for the two of them as they stand with their coats on and the ugly clouds hung behind them.

Lottie freezes as soon as she sees Louis stop. Her eyes dart to the door and her eyes widen. There's a good chance that Lottie forgot what today was, or doesn't even know why Louis' tears were stained earlier, but she sees Harry and doesn't doubt any other motives, with her lipstick in hand. "Perfect."

Harry doesn't even have time to completely take of his boots before Lottie is darting for him, her makeup uncapped and determination takes over her face. Louis wants to stop her. To tell her that today isn't really a good day for Harry.

Nervousness sits in the pit of his stomach in fear of Harry's reaction. Harry is actually taking off his shoe when he looks up from where he's crouched down and sees Lottie with a huge smile on her face. It's Gemma's death date, it's a bad day for Harry and he looks at Lottie and smiles.

His grin is unmistakeable and he's running before Louis can even process what's happening. Unabashed, Harry giggles loudly into the air, throwing his head back and running from her as fast as he can, without sliding around on the hardwoods with only socks on. There's a smile playing on Anne's lips too, just admiring the three of them.

Louis loves Lottie for making things okay, or more than okay, even. Louis loves Harry, too. Which, Louis actually agrees that Harry's lips would be much better to put lipstick on than his own, but he can still see the willpower in Lottie as she goes after the both of them.

Harry is trapped behind a table, as Lottie can catch him anyway he moves. Harry is still in a fit of laughs and can hardly breathe from maneuvering around so many obstacles. Not to say that Harry in lipstick would not be a beautiful sight, but Louis can't allow Harry to take the punch quite this early.

Sneaking up behind Lottie is easy, with her too invested in watching Harry and trying not to fall on the floor. Louis taps her on the shoulder once, distracting her as she whips her head around. Louis is too fast and is able to escape her, but lucky enough she was distracted long enough for Harry to escape her too.

They're the best allies the world has ever seen.

So Harry doesn't have Gemma. He hasn't had Gemma in a while and probably didn't have her even a while before she died. Lottie doesn't replace Gemma. She never will, but Louis hopes that this fulfills something in Harry. Because it's pointless and stupid and it's all the things Harry never got to live out when he was younger. He never had a sister to chase him or to play with him.

He's got Lottie, now. He's got Lottie and Félicité and Daisy and Phoebe. And he's got Louis, too, if he wants him.

Eventually, the playfulness dies down and Louis ends up getting red fucking lipstick smeared all over his face. Meanwhile, Anne and his mum have made it to the kitchen and Louis can hear smiles in their tone and laughs every once in a while, which is a good sign.

Lottie scurried off to go find Fizzy a long time ago and so now it's just Louis and Harry left to each others company. Louis forces Harry to come into the bathroom with him and help scrub off this stupid makeup.

"I don't know, I think it's a great color on you," Harry snorts at his own remark and the look it earns from Louis.

"Yeah you say that, but you're not the one with red lipstick all over your face that won't even come off." Harry laughs at Louis as he violently scrubs his cheek, using a towel he found under the sink in his bathroom. ( _Why did Lottie feel the need to use bright red? Couldn't she have picked a softer color?_ )

"C'mere. You're hopeless," Harry grabs the towel from Louis' hand and wets it some more in the sink behind them. Louis can see the way they move together in the mirror, how Louis hops up on the counter and Harry walks in between his legs. Louis almost jumps at the movement, because it's so odd.

They've kissed once when they were fifteen, only cuddled about a week ago, and now Harry is easily moving in between Louis' legs while he's propped up on the counter in his bathroom. Louis hopes he doesn't look to smug, because he does believe that they're at least a bit confusing, that's for sure.

It's not like they're kissing, but Louis thinks there has to be something. Maybe. Louis doesn't know. Yet, in the moment, he doesn't feel the need to ask Harry. They're both happy and smiling and Louis really wants this lipstick off of his face. It isn't worth questioning.

"Jesus Christ, are you rubbing hard enough?"

"Sorry, sorry." Harry looks actually distraught at the fact he's hurting Louis, even in the tiniest way. It's cute, and almost causes Louis to start being sappy. Harry is looking up at Louis with his big doe eyes and (now) carefully using the towel to get the rest of the lip stain off of Louis' face.

Louis doesn't say anything and just opts to making funny faces at Harry, who is being so kind as to actually help Louis in his time of need. They're quiet for a while and Louis is trying really hard not to look into Harry's eyes. He knows that if he does, he'll realize how close they are at this very moment. It'll be harder for Louis to not place kisses all over Harry's face with giggles and crinkly eyes. It's inappropriate. Louis still wants to kiss him, even if he's not looking at his eyes.

"I think I got it all," Louis twists around in the mirror to inspect his face. There's no more makeup left and Louis doesn't know how Harry managed to get all of it off in half the time it took himself. He smiles wide to himself, about to say a thank you to Harry and hop of the counter. Except for when he turns back round and Harry's still there, wedged in between Louis' legs and looking up at him.

Louis is literally forced to look into his eyes at this point. His emerald green eyes are staring deep into Louis' and Louis feels like any oxygen in the room has been sucked out by some type of force. Maybe it's the two of them together. They're kind of their own force.

"Can I talk to you? Like, uhm, a serious talk," Harry looks down at where his fingers are twiddling around one another. He looks nervous and Louis can tell by his body language, the way he slumps and slightly backs away from his position in between Louis' legs gives away his carefree cover.

"Yeah. Of course." Harry's the first one to leave the bathroom, motioning for Louis to follow behind him. He obligates and walks in his room to find Harry locking his door. Which, okay, that could mean a lot of things. It could mean a good thing and it could mean many more other possibilities.

It's an indication that whatever Harry says is going to be important, so Louis makes a promise to himself to listen to whatever Harry is going to say and to take it to heart. Sitting on the edge of Louis' bed, Harry looks over at Louis, who sort of is just hanging around the doorway of his bathroom, afraid to get too close. He's the slight bit nervous, but Harry pats the space next to him as an open invitation.

It only makes Louis more anxious, but he sits close enough to Harry to smell his expensive cologne and feel his body heat. His bed creaks once Harry lays back on it. Harry dramatically flings his arms out to sprawl out, but his movements are slow enough to prove that his demeanor has changed. Harry isn't in the same mindset he was whenever he was allowing Lottie to chase him. Now, his breaths are deeper and he's take longer to exhale.

"My day was shit, before I came over here." Louis can hear how slow Harry is talking, his deep voice sounding even raspier. "My mom told me that Mrs. Johannah had already texted her. Told her how lucky she was to have mom as her best friend. And all I kept thinking is ' _Why hasn't Louis texted me? Did he forget?_ -"

"Haz."

"No, shh. I'm not upset. The point is, I wanted you to text me. I wanted you to comfort me and hold me, but it was for all the wrong reasons. Every year I allow myself to be pitied constantly because I liked the attention. Before I had never admitted it. It wasn't until this year that I realized I didn't want just anyone's attention, I wanted yours. And then mom asked me if I wanted to come over here and my first instinct was ' _No, why would I want to go over there? I need to be sad and locked up in my room_.' But then I thought some more and realized that I just wanted you. I didn't want this day to myself."

"I was going to call you, but then Lottie-" Harry looks over at Louis with his warm eyes and motions for him to lay down beside him.

"I finally agreed to come here and I expected you to pity me, because that's what I wanted. And you're best at that. Y'anno, giving me whatever I want." _Whipped_. Basically, Louis is whipped. "And then I got here, and you were having so much fun with Lottie. It put a smile on my face instantly, because you were getting what you wanted. That's when I realized that before I had wanted you because I thought that made you happy. I thought that being with me makes you happy."

"It does."

"What I didn't realize was that I was constantly pulling you into this sorrowful mood. I make you sad, Louis. Don't act like I don't." Louis gulps around the words that are about to surface.

Right now is not a good time for him to put his thoughts into this, because if he did it would be embarrassing for both him and Harry. Louis could spill all of his emotions out to Harry at this very moment.

"Gemma used to tell me this poem," Louis freezes at the change in topic. Harry swallows in the same density of nervousness that shows in Louis. "A sonnet. Sonnet 98, actually."

 

_From you have I been absent in the spring.._

 

"I can barely remember it now, but you saw that hickey on me. And when you said you hoped that 'she wrote sonnets about my eyes', it hit too close to home for me."

 

 _When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,_ _//_ _Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,_

 

"It reminded me of that night when you visited me for the first time after her death." Louis' heart pulls towards his lungs. "When I told you all of my worries, you said it wasn't my fault, that none of it was on me, but she told me, Louis. She gave me this sonnet. Gemma was trying to tell me," Harry's voice cracks and Louis knows he's crying. It's instinct to pull Harry into his chest. "She was trying to tell me that she wasn't going to be there whenever spring time rolled around. I thought it was some stupid, pointless, dramatic gesture from Gemma."

"You can't blame yourself, Harry."

 

_That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him. // Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell_

 

"I've lived with the thought of Gemma calling out my name, while she was drowning. That she expected me to be there. For me to untie her bags and bricks. She was counting on me."

"She did all of that to herself."

"She needed me to save her, Lou."

"Is that why you have doubts in God?"

"It's why I have doubts in believing that I deserve a savior."

 

_Of different flowers in odour and in hue, // Could make me any summer’s story tell,_

 

"I can be your savior."

 

_Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: // Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,_

 

"Louis, we kissed that night. I don't know if you remember or not."

"I could never forget. Trust me."

 

_Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; // They were but sweet, but figures of delight_

 

"You know how I said you give me everything I want?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think you could do that? Right now. Give me what I want?"

 

_Drawn after you, – you pattern of all those._

 

"What do you want?"

 

_Yet seem’d it winter still, and, you away,_

 

"I want you to kiss me."

 

_As with your shadow I with these did play._

It's not the same as when they kissed when they were fifteen, it's not sloppy or confusing. There's no reason to question any motives, this time. It's Harry and Louis with their hands intertwined between their bodies while their lips move in sync. The world could be ending and neither one of the would even notice, too focused on each other's movements.

If anyone were to see them, no would know that they've only kissed once before. It looks like they've memorized this position with their mouths for their whole life. It's experienced.

The kiss shows how much they've grown between their first almost-forgotten kiss. It's not important, though, their first kiss is no comparison to all of the clichés running through Louis' mind. However, it has started to rain.

So, maybe this kiss is just like their first one, Louis thinks, tangled up with one another while the rain plays its own tune, oblivious to their milestone. It's remembrance of kissing behind Harry's locked door, but they're doing the same now. It's been two years since the first one.

Everything and nothing has changed.

This kiss consists of Louis taking lead, and he's allowed. Allowed to fix all of those parts Harry lost along the way. Louis kisses him with intentions of showing him what he's got, showing Harry that he can be his savior.

He can save Harry, if Harry can save him.

Their lips are fit for one another and Louis can't help but think that all of the wait was worth it. Crying and taking antidepressants, forgetting about the pond, talking about monsters, God, it's all worth it. All of it. Louis feels a wetness against his cheeks that's coming from Harry. It's the same type of crying that Harry received from Louis over a phone call, about a year ago.

It's the realization that he is kissing a boy and he likes it. So Louis hums into the contact, doing what he does best, comforting Harry. Louis lets Harry cry and knows how important he is that he doesn't stop him. He keeps kissing him and refuses to stop until Harry asks. Which doesn't happen, not for some while until Louis needs oxygen and also needs to check on Harry's development.

Louis takes one look at Harry, before kissing him again. Harry doesn't pull away and instead repositions his head for Louis to have better access to his lips. It's beautiful and intimate and Louis is so so so fucking in love.

Harry's eyes are forcefully closed, probably because he's finally facing his own thoughts. Louis knows how scary it is, to be stuck in your own head and to be kissing a boy for the very first time.

Louis spends this time pampering Harry's faces with kisses, kissing away all of the salty tears and murmuring. ( _"You're so beautiful, Harry." "Things are going to be okay." "There are some things in this world you can change and there are some things you can't."_ )

Harry continues crying, pulling Louis back in for kisses whenever he gets scared or thinks of something unpleasant. Louis draws circles on his back, over his shirt, in another attempt to comfort him. Harry doesn't just like boys- He likes Louis. Harry likes Louis and things are better than just alright.

They don't talk at first, but things don't end the way they did last time. Louis doesn't attempt to suppress all of these emotions or scrambles away from the boy under him, because somewhere along the way their position changed.

Instead, Harry looks up at Louis like he hung the stars and waits. Waits for Louis to run away and tell Harry that none of this is going to work out, the same way he did two years ago.

"I'm not leaving. If that's what you think." Harry grips onto him tighter, burying his head deeper into Louis' chest and actually dropping tiny little kisses through Louis' shirt and near his collarbone. "Things are going to be okay."

Louis doesn't ask Harry to be his boyfriend like how he had planned out in his head. He also hadn't expected Harry to cry at the realization that he wasn't straight. He figured that Harry was far too cold for all of that emotion. Louis was wrong.

"What is this like, for you?" Harry's whispering as he talks with his lips pressed against Louis' biceps, causing him to shiver.

"Bliss."

Every movement against his skin brings Louis back to reality, only to realize that 'Oh, shit. This is reality.' This thing he's been dreaming about is real. There's no use in closing his eyes or praying for Harry, because he's here. No black holes to suck him into a dream world, because this is it. It's all he's been dreaming about. He wonders what he'll dream about, now. Wonders what his brain will think of now that everything he's lusted after is here.

"What does this feel like to you?" Louis asks.

"Recovery."

Harry's ear is pressed over Louis' heart. He can properly hear it break and mend all at the same time.

This is bliss for them. This is past rainy days that used to give Louis anxiety, with grey clouds too close over his head. This is the smell of coconut and flowers, just like Harry's home. Bliss is being comfortable. And Harry is right.

Recovery is bliss.

Louis can hear gentle footsteps of someone making their way up the stairs. He doesn't immediately pull away from Harry. All of this is oddly different, Louis isn't all that scared. There's a knock on the door that nearly causes Harry to jump out of his skin. Harry- yeah- Harry is still scared.

Louis signals for Harry to stay silent and close his eyes. Walking towards the door, he hears Harry wrap himself up in the covers. Anne stands there with her pigeon-toed feet, her long dark shaping her face flawlessly. She so much like Harry that it aches.

"Hey, Mrs. Anne. Uhm, Harry's asleep, but I can wake him if you need him." (' _I'm not ready for him to go'_ ) Louis opens the door a bit wider, as an open invitation for her to come in.

"No, no. I was just heading home." Anne peaks into his room to see Harry curled into himself. "He seems comfortable and I think he's had a rough day. You make him happy." A closed-mouth smiles is all Louis can give, any more than that would be obvious. Anne would be able to see Louis' fond and he cannot have that.

"I'm glad."

Without warning, Anne reaches in to kiss his cheek. Louis might burst with happiness. He wonders if she can taste her son on his skin. She exits without another word. Louis closes the door, locking it, before crawling back into bed with Harry. _(Into bed with Harry. Oh my God._ ) Instead of laying next to Harry, he goes bold. Really fucking daring of Louis to climb up on top of Harry and straddle his hips.

Harry's eyes stay closed, but an obnoxious smile spreads across his face. Louis is okay here. He knows.

"Did you hear that? Your mommy says I make you happy." A loud laugh escapes Harry as he finally opens his eyes, using the back of his hands to run into his lids. Which. Okay he's adorable.

"Shut up twat."

"But she said it. Not _you_ , but her."

"Please never call her 'mommy' again."

Louis smiles down at him and given their position, things should be heated. Most of the time when Louis is on a guy's hips it's for other reasons than this one. It's new. This Harry is new, to Louis.

All he can see is the glimmer in Harry's eyes as they go hand-in-hand with the tears welling up in them, too. Everything is soft. Joking with one another is over and it's all stripped down to just the two of their heartbeats making their own melody.

"You can talk, if you want." Harry closes his eyes again, finding Louis' hands somewhere above him to tangle their fingers back together. Intimate, real, bliss.

"You said that the first time you saw me. After Gemma's- I mean, after."

Things come back into a full circle. Louis is still in love with Harry, the same way he was on that exact day. It goes back to his theory that everything and absolutely nothing have changed between them. It's a karma that Louis deserves, because if he knows one thing, he knows that he deserves this. He always has deserved to have Harry like this. To have him with no more boundaries or blockades.

"I'm sorry that I didn't talk about it, after you kissed me the first time."

"I thought you didn't like me. Or that you weren't..." _gay._ Harry can't say it, not yet.

"You know it was the exact opposite. I-"

"You really do like me, yeah?" There's a mixture of sarcasm and beauty, along with openness and hopefulness that Harry longs for, as he looks up at Louis.

Understatement of the century.

"You make me happy, Harry Styles."

"Forever?"

"Yeah. Forever."


End file.
